


Pinecrest 2: Heart's Desire

by rentgirl2



Series: Pinecrest Universe [2]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Graphic Sexual Content, Kidnapping, M/M, Mysticism, Power Play, Sentinel/Guide, Shamanism, noncon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-26 07:12:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 38,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/647954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rentgirl2/pseuds/rentgirl2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An enemy from their past threatens to destroy the life Jim and Blair have begun to build in Pinecrest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

_Prologue_

Dream or vision? Both were so vivid since Blair started apprenticing with Tommy Bear that he often had difficulty telling them apart.

A black jaguar slept in the shadows on the floor of a lush, green jungle. A silver wolf lay next to it, their flanks were pressed against each other. The wolf was awake, blue eyes scanning the landscape about them. While the wolf stood guard, the jaguar slept deeply, secure under the protection of the wolf.

Later, when the moon was lower, the jaguar would take his turn watching as the wolf slept.

The wolf sniffed at the air that was, even at this late hour, hot and still. The rich familiar scent of its mate's fur filled the wolf along with the sickly sweetness of tropical flowers and the rich loam that was a testament to the cycle of life and death. The wolf knew the jaguar would be able to detect much more on the wind than he, but he could keep them safe enough.

A new smell reached him.

Wolf. Female.

She appeared on the edge of a clearing not too far from them. Small and black with dark brown eyes, she whimpered to him, called to him.

The jaguar, his mate, growled in his sleep. The wolf soothed the jaguar with a nuzzle and a lick but never took his eyes off her.

She whimpered again, urging him to her.

The wolf shifted closer to his mate, determined not to leave his side.

The she-wolf howled softly, as though in pain. He smelled blood.

He could not resist. He would go, make sure she was capable of taking care of herself and then return to his post at his jaguar's side. It would only take a moment. He almost woke his mate but thought better of it.

Checking the forest around them again, testing the air and sensing no danger, the wolf left his sleeping mate and went toward the she-wolf.

Her howls increased in volume and he began to run. She was further from their resting place than he had originally thought. When he was almost to her, she turned and loped into the deep underbrush.

A few drops of blood gleamed garnet red in the shafts of starlight that filtered through the high jungle canopy. The wolf dropped his muzzle to it and inhaled.

Ah, she was not injured. She was ready to breed. She was in heat. The smell was delicious. Instinct called for him to follow her, to cover her. Loyalty called for him to return immediately to the jaguar.

Then, the jaguar's scream of anger and pain rent the still night air.

The wolf turned and ran back to their resting place. The scent of blood was thick about the jaguar. This time though, the unmistakable taint of injury and suffering flavored it.

His mate, belly torn open, lay dying in their resting place. He opened his blue eyes to meet the wolf's one last time. Betrayal, pain, love, all shone back at the wolf.

The wolf had failed his mate and in the process had lost everything.

Blair came awake with a start.

Dream or vision?

~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~~~

~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

 

Blair Sandburg pulled off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb. A vague headache throbbed just behind his temples.

He glanced up. The room was quiet. Well, as quiet as 48 elementary and junior high school kids get when they do thirty minutes of silent reading. Merrie White Feather, his teaching aide, was at her desk across the room shooting him a concerned look.

Blair gave her a shrug and shook his head. She gave him a knowing smirk and returned to her book. Fine, let her think he was tired from spending the whole night fucking. Although nothing could be further from the truth, he didn't need her grilling him. It was bad enough that Jim was driving him crazy playing twenty questions lately.

He immediately felt guilty for thinking like that about Merrie and Jim. He knew they were just watching out for him but, damn it, when he was ready to talk to them, he would.

In the four months since he and Jim had become lovers and Jim had moved into the little house behind the school with him, Jim and Merrie had become buddies. It had been tense between the two at first, both vying for their place in Blair's life but things had worked out well. Maybe too well.

Blair stared at the computer screen. Three pieces waited in the inbox, according to the opening page of his account. He was waiting to hear from Simon Banks and Megan Connor. The two police officers were planning to visit over the school's spring break next week. Jim and Blair had found a great spot for camping and fishing on the other side of the reservation in the Lake Quincy National Forest. The four were planning on a week long stay in the woods.

For the most part, Jim and Blair had settled well into reservation and small town life, but Blair knew Jim missed Simon. And Blair needed a chance to talk to Megan.

Merrie was probably his best friend here in Pinecrest but she too often sided with Jim. Megan was Blair's ally. She'd listen without judgment, without suggestion and without running to Jim. Even if Blair was totally wrong, Megan would merely nod.

Three emails. One more than he'd been waiting for this afternoon. That didn't necessarily mean anything bad.

It could be from Naomi. He hadn't heard from her in months. She hadn't taken the news that she'd never be a grandmother as well as he'd hoped. All these years of preaching live and let live and she'd totally freaked out when Blair had told her he and Jim were a committed couple. Even now Blair wasn't sure if her problem was with the idea of him being in a homosexual relationship, the idea that Blair was in love with a cop or the idea that the man was Jim. He couldn't worry about Naomi. She'd come around. He was her only son. She'd never be able to live as a persona non gratis forever.

But he didn't really think it was from Naomi.

Rick Jenson. Maybe it was from Rick. The two anthropologists had actually become closer since Blair had moved from Cascade. Now that there was no professional competition, no matter how friendly it had been, there was a flood of academic discussion between them online.

But he'd received a huge letter from Rick yesterday.

It could be any number of things. Other friends, junk mail, advertisements. All he had to do was click on the inbox icon and he could read the return address and know for sure.

And if it was her again?

"Mr. Sandburg?" Joshua Round Tree, a fifth grader, stood beside Blair's desk.

"Yeah, Josh? What can I do for you?"

"I'm having problems with this story. I don't get it."

Happy for the interuption, Blair turned from his computer screen.

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

Willa McCormick topped off Jim's coffee and slanted a smile at him. "Piece of cake or pie, Sheriff Ellison?"

Jim returned her smile and shook his head. "Better not today, Willa." He patted his flat abdomen. "I don't need the extra pounds."

"Oh please, honey. You look good and you know it."

He laughed as she moved on to the next booth in the diner. He sipped his coffee and glanced around the room. It still struck him as amusing that this was his town and these were his people. Oh, he took the job as sheriff seriously, very seriously, but still, sometimes it seemed ridiculous that he was in charge.

He touched the oval pendant through the material of his uniform shirt. Small, made of gold and jade, Blair had given it to him a month after Jeff Pickens had sworn him in as sheriff.

It was, Blair had explained to him, an ancient Kanji symbol for man. It was beautiful and obviously expensive. Jim had been appreciative of the gift but confused at its significance.

Blair had kissed him and said, "For one thing, since I've known you were always 'the man.' You know, a cop. Here in Pinecrest you're THE the man." Blair had waited till Jim had stopped laughing and added "And you're my man. I love you, Jim. We can't shout it to the world or make it a big deal but I wanted to give you some kind of a token so you'd understand that's how I feel about us."

Jim wasn't much for romance but he was pretty sure Blair had swept him off his feet right then. And Jim wasn't much for jewelry, maybe an earring during his vice days, but he had slipped the piece on a gold chain and hadn't taken it off since.

He had been so secure in their relationship then. Blair had been so affectionate, had seemed so happy that Jim was with him. Jim had never dreamed things would start to fall apart so quickly.

The last two weeks were like a rerun of the end his marriage to Carolyn. The difference was, this time he was Carolyn. Begging to be let in, begging for scraps of attention. Blair was him. Cold, remote, lights were on and no one was home and if they were, how would Jim know?

The coffee tasted burnt and bitter to him. What had he done? If he couldn't fix it, would Blair run away again?

Jesus, that wasn't fair. Blair wasn't some wayward child who hit the road at the first sign of trouble. He was a man. A strong man who had been hurt and humiliated and who had needed to make a new life of his own. So he had. A good life. A life so good, Jim had opted to give his own up to be a part of it.

He knew he would do it again. Follow Blair wherever he went.

He had stumbled into a lot of places, college, the Army, Cascade PD, only, well, this time Jim had landed in a place he loved and belonged. Here, far from the city, he'd found people who knew him by name, who respected him, who made him feel like an insider. At first, only because he was Blair's friend and housemate. Now, because he was Jim Ellison.

Here, with the new skills Blair was learning at Tommy Bear's side, Jim's senses were not only under the best control of his life but they were expanding and strengthening.

Here, in their little house that was more of a home than even the loft had been, Jim had found happiness.

He'd leave it all behind in an instant to be with Blair. Except he was afraid that this time, Blair wouldn't open the door and let him in if he were to follow. Blair was pushing him away and Jim didn't know how to change things.

There had been nothing overt. No shouting, no anger. Just a growing quiet where laughter and talking had existed. Even their lovemaking, as infrequent as it had been in the last two weeks, was silent now. Silent and desperate instead of noisy and joyous.

He was losing Blair and he felt helpless to stop it.

Next week Simon and Conner would be up for vacation. Maybe Simon could give him a little advice or Connor could straighten this mess out.

"Anything else, Sheriff?" Willa asked.

"No thanks, Willa." He stood and put a tip on the table.

"You be careful today, Sheriff," Willa called out as he left the diner.

He'd hate to leave Pinecrest. Hell, he'd even won Willa over, but if Blair left, Jim would be right behind him.

He tried to shake off the depression that threatened. He couldn't lose Blair. He'd have to find a way not to let that happen.

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

The house was dark and still when Jim came home that night. Just like when he lived with Carolyn.

One of his two deputies had called in sick so Jim had picked up the 3-11 shift after his own was finished. He'd called Blair and left a message on the answering machine. He suspected that Blair had screened the call and chosen not to pick up the phone and talk to him.

He didn't turn on the light in the empty living room. There was no television reception on the reservation but Jim had brought the TV and DVD player with him from the loft. Their movie collection was huge. They owned everything new, everything old, foreign movies with and without subtitles, Hollywood production numbers, Indies and everything in between.

Until recently, when Jim had worked the swing shift, he would come home to find Blair waiting for him wrapped in a blanket on the sofa with the TV on. Sometimes watching, sometimes just sleeping to the hum of the TV, sometimes grading papers with the TV as white noise. But always there, always waiting for Jim. As if he couldn't rest without knowing his partner was home, safe. As if the bed they shared was too empty to be in alone.

Now, if Jim came home after ten, Blair would be in bed, pretending to be asleep. Jim was a Sentinel, he knew Blair was faking it. Blair was a Guide, he knew Jim knew he was faking it. And they both said nothing.

The first time, not understanding that somehow his world had shifted while he wasn't looking, Jim had climbed into bed behind Blair, thinking they were playing some lovers' game. Jim had kissed and caressed Blair's body. After a minute, Blair had sighed and pulled away.

"You know," Blair had said that night, his voice flat, "I'm not a fucking machine. I teach all day. I tutor a couple of dozen students. I meet Tommy Bear three afternoons a week to learn how to help you control your senses. I go to tribal meetings or town council meetings a couple times a week. I've been working on a paper for the Anthropological Digest. Do you think that maybe, just one night, you could let me be if you see I'm asleep? I work hard, Jim. Sometimes, just like you, I'm exhausted."

Jim had been stunned. When he'd finally found his voice he had apologized. "Chief, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"Of anyone but yourself," Blair retorted. "You're horny so I'm supposed to roll-over. I get it, Jim."

"God, Blair, I never meant it to seem that way."

Blair had given him a smile that had chilled him. "I'm sure you didn't, Jim. I'm really tired, okay? We'll talk in the morning."

"Okay, yeah, we'll talk tomorrow. I love you, Blair."

But Blair hadn't responded and they didn't talk about it the next morning. 

Jim opened the refrigerator door. Blair had fixed a plate for him, some kind of casserole, green beans and fry bread. He took the plate and a beer out. He pulled back the plastic wrap covering his dinner and ate it cold. Nothing really tasted good to him when he ate alone anyway. Food was just fuel for his body.

When Blair had lived in the loft, Jim had looked forward to coming home. Then Blair had left him and for months, home had been an empty, solitary place. Now Jim came home hopeful and afraid. Hopeful whatever was wrong between them would be right again. Afraid it never could be.

With Carolyn, the silence had been cold and angry. He'd felt justified meeting her ire with his own. In the end, it was a relief to find her packed, to hear her finally say it was over.

With Blair the silence was merely sad. As if Blair had so much sorrow inside him it spilled over and flooded their lives until there was no room anymore for him to touch or talk. It wouldn't be a relief to hear Blair finally say it was over. Jim had barely survived the last time Blair had left him. Now they were lovers and he'd believed there was a forever for them.

He finished the food and beer, cleaned the kitchen and went to sit on the sofa in the darkened living room. He could hear Blair's heartbeat and breathing. Blair was pretending to be asleep. Jim would wait until he really was.

He couldn't confront Blair yet, couldn't take the chance that this would be the time Blair said it was over.

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

From his side of the bed, Blair heard Jim moving around in the kitchen. He could have easily gotten up and joined Jim. He knew Jim would welcome his company. God, he probably would be pathetically grateful for it.

It was selfish and childish to stay here in their bedroom and pretend he was sleeping. He hated himself for it. He just wasn't ready to see Jim yet, to see the grief in those blue eyes. Those eyes he'd thought he wanted to wake up to everyday of his life. Those eyes that told Blair that Jim understood everything had changed, he just didn't understand why.

How could Blair explain it when he felt so fucking clueless himself?

He'd been so damn sure he wanted this, wanted them. He'd thought, no he'd truly believed, that he was ready to do something he'd never done before, something Naomi had never been able to do. Commit to a lover.

He'd even given Jim a gold and jade pendant that, in Blair's mind, had been the equivalent of a wedding band. Jim seemed to understand that and never took it off. It had filled Blair with a sense of contentment, as if he had said to Jim "You're mine," and Jim had agreed.

Now, when Blair saw the jewelry lay against Jim's chest, it panicked him, suffocated him, trapped him.

Loving Jim and having Jim love him in return had been his heart's desire for years. But was it what he really wanted? Was it what he could live with?

If he finally came to a decision, if he could end this internal tug of war and he realized that it wasn't, could he deal with the pain it would cause Jim? Blair had promised Jim he'd love him forever, that he'd stay with him forever. What would it do to Jim to discover that Blair was a liar?

He turned over, trying to find a comfortable spot on their bed. He needed to fall asleep. Jim would wait until Blair was actually asleep before he came to bed. Blair knew Jim had worked at least a sixteen-hour shift today and had to be at the end of his strength.

Jim. God, they'd both had such high hopes for their future. Next week, when the time was right, they had been planning to tell Simon and Megan about the change in their relationship. Blair was positive Megan already knew, but it seemed right, seemed like it would somehow legitimize their relationship as a couple if they let their best friends know they were together. He wasn't sure they even were together anymore.

Blair wished he'd never read that first email. He'd almost deleted it when he realized who it was from. She'd hurt him so damn much, not once but twice. And he was about to do the same thing to Jim.

He flipped over again, trying to find the magical position that would silence his demons and let him sleep.

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

After Blair fell asleep, Jim slipped into bed, careful not to jostle the younger man. He spent a few minutes inhaling Blair, categorizing his scent, his warmth, the dip of his weight in the mattress. He wanted to touch the soft curls spread across the pillow but he didn't dare. Blair had made it clear that Jim was no longer welcome to touch him without explicit permission.

Somewhere near dawn Jim slept and dreamed.

In his dream, Blair loved him. They laid on the bed, spooned on their left side. Jim's satin covered erection pressed against his lover. Blair rocked against him, murmuring a sleepy consent.

Jim bunched up Blair's tank top and ran his hand over Blair's hair dusted chest. Blair moaned, whispered something even Jim couldn't hear. Jim slid the waistband of Blair's boxers off his hips and down his thighs. Jim pulled his own hard-on through the slit in his boxers, rubbing the head over the smooth flesh of Blair's ass. Jim reached for the lube in the nightstand and slicked his cock with it.

He pushed easily into Blair's willing heat. He reached around with his right hand and encircled Blair's cock.

Still spooned on their side, they moved as one. Pleasing each other, anticipating the joy that would follow as they had so many times before.

Jim could feel Blair's heartbeat, feel the give and resistance of his tight body. Together. This was how it should be. Like it was in his memory.

They were together. The breathing, the stroking, the whispered meaningless sounds lovers make as they strive closer and closer to completion.

In his dream, all the sorrow, all the doubts fell away and he was sure again. Sure this was forever. Sure they were at the start of their time with one another. Sure that he would never have to be alone again. Sure that Blair still loved him.

Together, they shuddered and came.

Then they settled into each other's arms and slept.

Jim awoke alone. Par for the course these past few weeks.

This morning, though, he woke sticky and sated. The air in their bedroom was tinged with the scent of sweat and come.

His dream had been reality.

He listened. Blair was already gone. Lighthearted, Jim hopped out of bed. He pulled the soiled sheets off and shoved them into the hamper. If he hurried, he'd have time to see Blair at school before he had to head into town.

As he showered and dressed, he wondered what Blair had meant by making love with him last night. Maybe whatever had been so fucked up between them could be solved. He glanced at the clock. Plenty of time before anyone else arrived at school.

He jogged the short distance between the house and the school, feeling hopeful for the first time in days.

Blair was putting an outline about the Bill of Rights up on one of the chalkboards. "Hey, Chief. I want to say goodbye before I head into town."

Blair turned to face him. Beautiful, Jim thought. He was wearing tight, faded Levi's tucked into traditional Watumsa leather boots. His shirt was a long-sleeved white cotton number that the grandmothers had embroidered on the yolk a complex blue and red pattern. He was just beautiful.

For just a moment, those enormous blue eyes were warm and welcoming. A smile of pure happiness curved the full lips.

Then, whatever it was that was bothering Blair was remembered. The eyes became flint hard, the mouth a line of anger.

"Okay, I'll see you tonight, Jim." Blair turned back to the board.

Suddenly, Jim didn't think he could breathe if it was left like this any longer. "Chief," he started.

Blair continued to write on the board, his lettering neat and precise. "I'm a little busy here, Jim."

"You're always a little busy."

Over his shoulder Blair said, "You knew what my life was like before you moved here. If my schedule is too much for you to handle then I guess you should have fucking stayed in Cascade."

Jim stalked forward, stopping just short of touching Blair. The icy tone of Blair's voice scared the hell out of him. Where was his fiery Blair? The talkative friend? The passionate lover?

"Before, you still found time for us."

Blair faced Jim, his eyes tired and old. He ran his hand through his hair. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry. I've been under the gun with school break coming up and report cards going out and everything else that's happening."

Jim was willing to say anything to keep Blair talking. "Part of it is my fault. I should give you a little space, right?"

Blair flashed him a quick grin. "Thanks, man."

"Maybe," Jim continued, "the week off will help. A little fishing, a little camping. Spending sometime with Simon and Connor. That will give you a chance to relax."

"Yeah, maybe." Blair leaned against the board. He looked down at the floor for a moment before meeting Jim's eyes. "Look, Jim, about telling Simon and Megan about us." He cleared his throat. "It's just, I was thinking maybe we should hold off on telling them for a while."

Jim's blood ran cold. "Really? And why are we going to wait, Sandburg? We've discussed this damned thing to death and decided we would tell them we were together." Jim's face tightened with hurt. "We are together, aren't we, Blair?"

"I just don't want any extra pressure on any of us while we're on vacation."

Jim angrily grabbed Blair's shoulders. "Fuck, Sandburg. What is going on with you? You're the one who wanted to tell Simon and Conner. Now you're acting like it's something you're ashamed of." He sounded desperate, even to himself. "Is that it? Are you ashamed of us?"

Blair shook his head. "No. No, of course not. You're the one who wanted us to be discreet."

"I'm the sheriff of a little podunk town, Chief. This isn't exactly the coming out capital of the Northwest."

"Let go of me," Blair said quietly. Jim realized he was digging his fingers into Blair's shoulders.

He released Blair and stepped back. "I'm sorry."

"You didn't hurt me, Jim. I just don't want the kids to walk in the classroom and see you shaking the shit out of me."

Embarrassed, Jim bunched his hands into his pant's pockets. "I don't mean to do that to you."

"I know you don't." Blair put his hand on the side of Jim's neck. "I'm not ashamed, okay? I'm just not ready to do a Gay Pride Parade."

Jim pulled back so that Blair's hand was dislodged. "You're not ready. All right, when do you think you'll be ready? When we're old and gray and headed for the retirement village in Florida? Do you think you'll be ready to come clean with our friends then?"

Blair took a deep breath, struggling to stay calm. "Why don't you tell me what you're really angry about, Jim."

"What am I really angry about? I guess it's the way you've been shutting me out. Now, you're telling me we need to keep hiding that we are together from our friends."

"Merrie knows," Blair said with a half smile.

"Only because she thinks she engineered the whole thing." He smiled back at Blair.

"My favorite Native American yenta," Blair laughed. He felt the tension between them fade. "I just want a little more time, Jim. I'm sorry if I made you feel like I was shutting you out."

Blair watched Jim pace in front of the window. The tan and brown sheriff's uniform pulled taunt across Jim's chest and shoulders as he moved. Blair was filled with warmth. Maybe he was being stupid. He'd wanted Jim for so long and he finally had him. Was he ready to throw everything away? Separate himself from Jim because of a few emails and the resulting doubts and restlessness? Wasn't Jim worth more than that?

Blair realized he was skirting close to the edge, close to driving Jim from him for good. God, he'd almost blurted out there is no us a moment ago. He put his hand out to stop Jim's pacing.

"Come here," Blair said, pulling Jim by the arm to the front of his desk. Blair leaned up and kissed Jim hard on the mouth. "We'll talk tonight, okay?"

Jim pulled Blair into another kiss. He broke away saying "I hear Merrie and the girls coming." They put a few feet between them. "I fucking hate this."

Blair nodded, understanding exactly what Jim meant. That their relationship had to be, for the most part, a secret was part of the problem for Blair. Did he want to spend the rest of his life as part of a couple who had to be discreet, who had to be hidden?

He had always been a physically affectionate person with his lovers. Of course, all his lovers in the past had been women. He liked touching them, kissing them, holding them and looking at them. Keeping the sexual tension between them simmering all the time.

With Jim, it was the reverse. The sexual tension between them simmered all the time and Blair wanted to touch him, kiss him, hold him because of it. But he didn't. Even the casual touching they had once shared was abandoned out of deference to their sexual relationship.

The physical contact between them was natural from the very beginning. Well, that wall-slamming thing had been kind of out there, but the hand on the shoulder, at the small of the back, and the side of the face, had been a part of their daily routine. An unspoken necessity. A grounding tool for the Sentinel. A piece of comfort for the Guide.

That had been put away. They had touched and kissed only in private since they'd become lovers. Blair had cut even that off. He had pushed Jim away both mentally and physically.

All because of a few emails from a long ago almost lover.

The one woman he'd shed tears for. The one woman he'd said I love you to and meant it.

He gave Jim another quick kiss. "Tonight. We'll talk tonight, I swear."

Jim nodded. He stopped to talk to Merrie and the girls for a moment then left for work.

"You two girls take that box of squash out of the car and put it on Mr. Sandburg's porch, please," Merrie said to Megan and Molly. To Blair she added, "It's the end of the winter stores, thank God. I'm sick to death of acorn squash."

"Thanks, Merrie," Blair turned back to the board. He felt deflated now that Jim was gone, his doubts resurfacing.

"What's going on with you, Blair?" Merrie said.

"Nothing," he answered, not looking at her.

"Right. Nothing. You're in two modes nowadays. You're either moping around and staring into space or you're just plain rude."

"Whatever."

"I'm going to call that the rude mode as opposed to your space cadet routine."

Blair continued to write on the board, ignoring her.

"Damn it, Blair Sandburg, talk to me."

"What do you want me to say, Merrie?"

"How about 'Hey, Merrie, guess what's going wrong with me?'"

"Nothing is going wrong with me, okay?" He moved to sit at his desk. He pulled out his grade book and a calculator. "I'm just pressured for time. Report cards go out Friday, I've got that accreditation survey to finish for the Federal funding program and we've got friends coming in next week. I'm stressed, that's all."

"Well," Merrie said, sitting on the edge of his desk, "as long as everything is fine between you and that tall, good looking sheriff."

He couldn't help it. Blair laughed. "Yes, everything is good. All right, nosey girl?"

"You're lying but whatever." She chuckled then said, in a conspirator's tone, "I meant to tell you this yesterday. The matchmakers in town are trying to set up Willa McCormick's niece, Dotty, with the Sheriff. Dotty is moving back to Pinecrest and the old hens are already working out their strategies."

Blair couldn't believe the burn of jealousy at the back of his throat. He smiled and casually said, "I'm sure Jim will be flattered."

"I'm sure. Dotty moved to LA about ten years ago to be a model."

"It didn't work out?"

"Actually, she did several commercials and a couple of fashion layout things. Everybody in town got a real kick out of it."

"So why is she moving back?"

"Rumor has it she's got a broken heart."

"Did you know her very well?" Blair wondered why he didn't just shut up.

"She was a couple of years older than I was so we didn't exactly hang out together. She was a nice girl though. Really pretty and popular but not stuck up."

"So, Dotty is beautiful and nice."

"Yeah. Tall and blonde. A real WASP princess. I was so envious when I was a pudgy, little black-haired kid." Merrie stopped when she noticed the stricken look on Blair's face. "What is it, Blair?"

"Nothing. I was just thinking that she sounds like Jim's type."

"What?" Merrie was offended. "Where is your sense of humor, Blair? You're being an idiot. Jim's type is short, dark and gorgeous."

"For now." Blair pushed out of his desk and walked to look out the window.

Merrie followed, not ready to drop the subject. "Blair? What is going on in your head?"

"Why? You need a conversation starter for your next lunch time phone call with Jim?"

"You know, sometimes I forget why the hell I'm your friend." Merrie's voice was teary.

Blair turned and hugged her. "You're my friend because I'm irresistible. A stupid bastard sometimes but irresistible. I'm sorry, Merrie." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'm tired and grouchy. Forgive me?"

Merrie reluctantly nodded. "Okay, but you better quit being such a jerk or you're going to scare me and Jim off." She squeezed Blair tight. "Jim loves you, you moron."

"I know." He released her. "Let's keep this little talk between us, okay? I don't want to freak Jim out."

"Sure, Blair. No need to upset him over nothing, right?"

"Right."

"And it's nothing, right, Blair?"

"Yeah, it's nothing. Can we get to work now?"

"Yes, Mr. Sandburg," she laughed.

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

Blair was glad today had been a half-day of school. All the emotional bullshit with Jim before class had drained him and this afternoon he was meeting Tommy Bear.

He shifted his blue Ford pick-up into low gear and began the ascent toward Tommy's medicine lodge. His growling stomach sounded unusually loud in the truck's cab. He'd been fasting for forty-eight hours knowing today would be an attempted vision quest.

When a mortally wounded Incacha had told Blair two years ago that he was to be a Shaman, Blair had been thrilled and horrified. Soon after, he'd done intense research on Shamans. Unfortunately, there had been no one for Blair to study under in Cascade.

At the time he had considered spending a summer among a South American tribe to get some feel for what he needed to do. Then everything had come apart at the seams. Jim had read the introduction to his dissertation. They'd reached a peace after that, but the wedge had been driven between them. Then came Alex. He'd barely survived that encounter. Literally. Their friendship hung by a thread. Then the second dissertation fiasco. Blair had slipped away to Pinecrest and Jim had followed months later.

When the Watumsa Shaman, Tommy Bear, had seen Blair and Jim together, he had recognized the power between them. Tommy offered to initiate, or train, Blair in the way of the Shamans. Blair had been his student ever since.

After four months Blair was amazed how much he had learned and staggered by how much there was yet to learn.

While researching at Rainier, Blair found that a person became a Shaman in one of three ways. The first was called hereditary transmission. Since Blair had no idea who his father was, that was a possibility. He didn't look like he had Native American blood but Naomi had confirmed one of her lovers had been part Sioux. So, far fetched as it might appear, there was a chance that being a Shaman was in his bloodline.

The second way was referred to as spontaneous selection or a calling. Incacha had most definitely called Blair to be a Shaman on that terrible afternoon in the loft.

The last way, while not considered as valid as the other two, was a personal choice to become a Shaman. And Blair did chose this path.

He figured he had at least two out of the three ways to become a Shaman covered.

Blair parked his truck at the edge of the woods. The medicine lodge was another mile up the steep hill. The dense underbrush made it impossible to reach the lodge by anything but foot. Blair grabbed his backpack out of the cab and started to hike.

Blair realized how very lucky he was Tommy Bear had taken an interest in his training. A Shaman was not considered legitimate until he was initiated by an old master Shaman.  
His instruction was two-fold.

Traditional training of Shamanic technique was the book work stuff that Blair was so adept at. Learning the names and functions of the spirits and the mythology and genealogy of the tribe was simple to Blair. As a Shaman, he would be guided by spirits so he had to know not only their names but their abilities, motivations and reliability. He was studying traditional medicines and healing techniques.

The traditional part of his training he had discussed at long length with Jim. The second part, the Ecstatic training, he had kept a secret. Blair had hoped after all this time that Jim would have a more open mind about the mystical. After all, Jim was a Sentinel. He had visions. He had an animal spirit. He had pulled Blair back from the brink of death. And yet, he was a cynic. He seemed to disdain that which he couldn't comprehend with his senses.

Jim had difficulty accepting that, as a Shaman, Blair would be a priest, a magician, a healer, a Guide and a counselor to the whole tribe.

So, Blair kept the Ecstatic training to himself. It was all too new and precious to be spoiled by Jim's skepticism.

It was a wonder to Blair. The dreams, trances, visions and, someday, Shamanic Flight. At the start of his initiation, Tommy had Blair fast for several days to ready himself for the ecstatic training. Now, Blair only fasted for a day or two. His visions and dreams were vivid but he'd yet to experience Shamanic Flight.

He would eventually be able to leave his physical body and let his spirit fly. To be a bridge between the past and the future. A Shaman's soul could ascend to the heavens and descend to the underworld. It was a totally awesome concept.

And there were other things, too. Things that not even all Shamans achieved but that Tommy had assured Blair he would accomplish. Some had power over certain elements like fire or water or wind. There were even shape shifters and form changers.

Under Tommy's direction, Blair was beginning to explore and tap into the power within himself. He understood that being a Shaman was a sacred trust, that he was to be of service to the community and to The People. It was a frightening responsibility. It was an exhilarating challenge.

He spotted Tommy, waiting near the small lake in the clearing. "Blair," he said, indicating a flat rock next to a pile of kindling.

"Tommy," Blair said, sitting down. "Thank you for taking time for me today."

Tommy nodded and knelt next to the kindling. "You've been troubled, Blair."

"Yes."

"Have you meditated and prayed? Have you looked to your spirit guide for answers?"

Blair shook his head. "Why? Have you had a vision about me?"

"This is not about my visions, Blair. It is about you using your own power as a path to discovery."

"Meaning," Blair said with a smile, "even if you had a vision, you wouldn't tell me."

Tommy gave a shrug. "Have you fasted? Are you ready?"

"Yes, I'm ready." Blair breathed deeply and slowly, listening to the rhythm of his own heart. Unlike his meditation of old, he kept his eyes open.

Tommy chanted softly in Watumsa. He passed his hand over the kindling and it ignited. Blair had watched Tommy command the element of fire many times since the start of his initiation. Still, it was incredible to see.

The Shaman laid herbs on the fire and continued to chant. Blair was far from fluent in Watumsa but he had been studying it since he'd moved to the rez. He was able to pick out some words. Vision wanderer. Dream seeker. Truth givers.

As he continued to breathe in slowly, deeply, he was hit with the scent of sage. Naomi. Ah, Naomi, why couldn't you accept us? Given us your blessing? Been happy that your only son finally found love? Is that when the doubts started creeping in?

Tommy's voice brought Blair's attention back. He was supposed to be emptying his mind, not filling it with regrets.

The wind shifted and the smoke burned Blair's eyes. He looked through the veil of smoke and tears to the lake. Then his vision began.

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

All was dark.

Then the moon poked out from behind the clouds, bathing the forest in soft light. The silver wolf and the black female wolf stood on opposite sides of a river. When they caught sight of each other, they raised up on their hind legs, standing as if they were human.

Though the wide span of the river separated them, their voices carried easily in the still night.

"I want you to stay," the wolf said, his voice full of grief. "I love you."

"I love you, too," the female answered. "But I hate you, too." When the wolf would have crossed the river to join her, she added, "I just need time. Time to find out who I am and what I feel."

Defeated, the wolf called to her, "I'll be here."

A strong wind swept through the forest, tearing the scene away, replacing it with dawn.

The wolf and jaguar rested together in the tall grass, the rising sun warm on their fur.

Coyote appeared before them. "Come with me," he said to the wolf.

The jaguar growled into the wolf's ear. "Remember, Coyote is the trickster."

"Yes," Coyote said, "but I can also be the knowledge bringer."

"If," the jaguar cautioned the wolf, "you are able to decipher truth from his lies, facts from his fictions."

"Everyone knows," Coyote retorted, "visions are two edged. The truth, but perhaps not all of it."

The wolf looked between the two arguing over him. "I will decide for myself."

The jaguar turned blue eyes on the wolf. "When you decide for yourself, you choose for both of us."

"Then," the wolf said, "trust me to choose well."

"I trust you," the jaguar said.

"Come with me," Coyote said. Behind him were three paths. "Choose so that the choice is yours, wolf, or the choice will be made for you."

The wolf stood alone before the three paths. He sniffed at the first one. It was her. He could taste the urge to breed, the blood of her time, on the air. Instinct and the way of the world, urged him down this path.

He inhaled the scent of the second path. Coyote. He felt the excitement, the adventure that waited down this road. The desire to be free, to be wild pulled at him to go this way.

The third path was heavy with the smell of his mate, the jaguar. Love, loyalty, promises made called him to walk this path. The impending sorrow of journeying here pricked his heart.

"Choose," Coyote's voice said, though Coyote was gone. "Choose."

"It's not that simple," the wolf protested.

"Choose or the choice will be made for you."

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

Tears streamed from Blair's eyes when he came to consciousness. Night had started to fall. Tommy knelt across the fire from him.

"Blair?"

"I'm okay," Blair said, wiping his eyes and cheeks with the back of his hand. Tommy handed him a canteen of water and Blair drank gratefully. "Wow."

"Was your vision walk helpful?"

"I'm not sure. I don't think I'm ready to talk about it yet." There was too much familiar, too much to analyze before he would talk to Tommy.

"When you're ready," Tommy said.

"What time is it?"

"Around six."

"Man, I've got a town council meeting at eight," Blair said, getting to his feet.

"You have time." Tommy stood and kicked dirt on the fire. Blair threw a bucket of lake water on the embers. When both men were satisfied the fire was out, they walked to Blair's truck in silence.

Blair thanked Tommy and drove back to the house. If he hurried, he'd have just enough time to shower and make the trip into Pinecrest.

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

Jim scanned the full meeting room. He'd picked up Blair's racing heartbeat as soon as he'd turned into the parking lot. Blair had no doubt rushed over after his meeting with Tommy Bear. Jim had been held up with a traffic accident on the county line. He'd hoped to make it to the council before Blair so that he could find an excuse to sit up front and closer to him, but Jim's late arrival made that impossible.

There, at the front table, was Blair. He had recently showered and Jim could smell the herbal shampoo and soap that clung to him. Blair's hair was still damp and pulled back in a subtle black hair tie. His light blue dress shirt was pressed and rolled back on his forearms. His tight blue jeans of this morning had been replaced with dark dress slacks and the leather boots with black loafers. He looked deliciously fresh to Jim.

Jim felt wilted in comparison. His uniform was slightly disheveled and his Sentinel nose noticed his own sweaty musk.

He watched as the mayor, Frank Mullins, bent over to kiss his wife, Carrie. A shaft of envy pierced Jim. He wanted to walk over to that table and press his mouth against Blair's. To taste that sweetness, that freshness. To be revived by Blair's youth and enthusiasm.

Blair's eyes found his across the room. Jim could read Blair's hunger for the same thing. For the freedom to sit together, shoulders touching like other couples. To hold hands, rest against each other, to be able to show in public that they were united, that they were one in private.

Blair flashed him a secret smile. He held Jim's glance but schooled the intimacy out of it. They could only be friends and roommates in front of these people. They could be perceived as close but never, ever could the truth of their relationship come out.

Perfect choice of words. Come out.

No matter how much the people of this town adored Blair or respected Jim, they would never tolerate them being lovers. Being fags. Being queers. It sounded so ugly to Jim. There were very few places they could live their life together openly.

The Watumsa seemed to understand and accept the intensity and devotion between the two of them. Jim suspected the Watumsa viewed it as a more mystical than loving relationship.

Blair was training to be a Shaman and while the tribe might not actually say the word aloud, Jim was sure they knew he was a Sentinel. It soothed him to be among the Watumsa. His heightened senses to them were as much a part of the natural order as they had been among the Chopec.

Blair called the meeting to order. Jim had known Blair for over four years and had seen him perform in a variety of roles. Teacher, student, police observer, friend, lover. Yet, it still stunned him to witness how much of a chameleon Sandburg was.

Glasses on, dressed conservatively, Blair became the epitome of the young civil servant. Calm, charming, diplomatic, he gave everyone a chance to have their say while keeping the meeting moving along.

Merrie White Feather gave Jim a small wave when he spotted her halfway through the meeting. Jim blushed at her knowing smirk. Yeah, he hadn't taken his eyes off Sandburg the entire time. There hadn't really been much to discuss but the town and the tribe looked forward to the bimonthly meetings. The town hall was always standing room only.

Blair called for any further business. When no one came forward, he declared the meeting adjourned. Jim made his way through the crowd, slowing to chat but never stopping, Blair his goal.

When he was standing in front of Blair, the younger man gave him a look so hot, so promising Jim almost reached out and grabbed him. Tonight, he mouthed to Blair. Blair gave a slight nod and smiled.

"Hey, Chief." Maybe, Jim thought, things were going to be okay.

"Hey, Jim." Blair sounded tired but happy to see him.

"How was your lesson?" When Blair looked at him like that, everyone and everything else disappeared.

"Enlightening. Confusing. Same old stuff," Blair hedged. "Have you eaten yet?"

"No. I was waiting for you and I'm starving." Jim inhaled deeply. He could detect Blair's desire bubbling out to him. Thank God. They would eat, talk, and make love.

"Sheriff Ellison, Mr. Sandburg," Willa McCormick interrupted, "I have someone I'd like you both to meet." A beautiful blonde woman, about thirty years old stood beside Willa. "This is my niece, Dotty."

Blair stuck out his hand. "Hi, I'm Blair."

"Hi, Blair," she gave Blair a friendly smile. "Aunt Willa has told me so much about both of you." Although no one else would be able to detect it, Jim felt Blair's sudden tension.

"And this," Willa said as though presenting a prize pig, "is Sheriff Ellison, Dotty."

Jim shook her hand. "Jim. Good to meet you, Dotty. Willa's been very excited about your homecoming."

Dotty sighed affectionately at her aunt. "Oh, Aunt Willa, you've been boring everyone to death about me?"

"Not boring at all," Jim said, wanting to stay in the good graces of the waitress who served him lunch almost everyday.

"I heard you say you were starving, Sheriff. Dotty just got into town and hasn't had a chance to eat dinner, either. You two could grab something at the diner."

"Actually, Blair and I," Jim started.

"Oh, Mr. Sandburg won't mind, will you?" Willa said.

Blair gave a blinding smile. "Absolutely not. There is a stack of history papers sitting on my desk waiting to be graded." He shook Dotty's hand again. "Really nice to see you, Dotty. You two have a good time." To everyone else, Blair appeared gracious but Jim could almost taste the hurt and anger radiating off him.

"Wait, Chief," Jim said, but Blair had already disappeared into the milling crowd.

Fuck. The couple of hesitant steps they'd made toward each other were now null and void. Blair was obviously angry. Jim had just been maneuvered into a dinner date right in front of his lover. Fuck.

"Everything okay, Jim?" Dotty asked.

"Yeah, fine." It wasn't Dotty's fault and what could he say anyway? "Are you ready to head over to the diner?"

"Sure."

The diner was across the street from town hall. Normally, Pinecrest was quiet by this time of the night but after a council meeting, it was a social hour for the town. The diner would be crowded, as would the Baskin-Robins and Pinecrest's low budget version of Starbucks.

His town. He cared for and about these people. Still, the very thing that made this place perfect for him and Blair, the closely knit community, the small town attitude, was also what kept them from declaring themselves. A big city like New York or San Francisco would tolerate a homosexual elementary school teacher. Maybe even a queer cop. Here, no way.

A booth was open near the window and Jim and Dotty slid into it. Tina Stevenz took their order and brought them coffee.

"I'm really sorry about the way Aunt Willa bulldozed you into dinner," Dotty said with a small smile. "She means well."

"There's nothing to be sorry about, Dotty."

"She worries about me all the time. She preached to me about the wicked ways of LA the whole time I lived there," Dotty laughed. "I understand I was on the prayer request list at her church for almost a decade."

"It's nice to have someone worry about you."

"She and my mom were very close so I was more like a daughter than a niece when I was growing up."

Jim nodded. "She's really happy you're back."

"And, as usual, she's ready to fix all my problems. She's got it in her head that's she's going to replace my ex-fiancé with you and everything wrong in my life will be magically righted."

Jim sputtered on his coffee. "She told you that?"

"Not in so many words but, yeah, that was the gist of our last twenty conversations. When Blair moved on the reservation all her letters were about wonderful Mr. Sandburg. Then you became the sheriff and suddenly all her letters were about you," Dotty said, amusement in her voice. "One thing Willa McCormick isn't, is subtle."

"Ah." Jim shook his head. Small town life. In the beginning there had been numerous attempts to fix him up. The grandmothers had never tried with him as they had with Blair when the younger man had first become the reservation teacher. Jim was certain it was because of the bond the Watumsa sensed between them. The ladies of Pinecrest however, had no knowledge of the existence of Sentinel and Shaman. Only quick thinking and fast talking had kept him from uncomfortable situations such as the one he found himself in tonight.

Dotty gave Jim a speculative glance. "I guess Aunt Willa didn't know you were already taken."

"Excuse me?" Jim kept his face blank.

"You and Blair," she said as though she'd just put it together.

Jim thought about denying it but that would somehow be betraying Blair and he couldn't do it. Of course outing Blair would be a betrayal, too, so he opted to give away nothing. "Why would you say that, Dotty? A rumor like that can cost someone their job."

"Jim, I have no intention of saying anything to anyone." She reached across the table to squeeze his hand. "I've spent a long time in LA. Your private life is private."

Jim sighed. "So, we what? Pinged your gaydar?"

"Actually, no." She leaned across the table, keeping her voice low. "I saw the smoldering glances between you two." She laughed. "In spite of my dirt bag of an ex, I'm still a hopeless romantic, Jim. Don't worry. No one else would guess."

"Okay."

"So, how much trouble are you going to be in when you get home?"

"None," Jim hoped. Tina put their plates in front of them. "Thanks, Tina."

"You're welcome, Sheriff. If you or Dotty need anything else, let me know." The waitress left the table with a silly grin on her face.

"Matchmakers," Dotty spat the word like a curse.

"Her too? You're serious?"

"Dead serious. I have a feeling they've already planned our wedding and named our kids."

Jim let out a groan. "Blair is going to hate this. I hate this." He took a bite of his cheeseburger. "No offense, Dotty."

"None taken. I'm not exactly looking for a hot romance right now. Aunt Willa just doesn't get it. Even though it didn't work out for me and my ex, I still love him." She sipped her coffee then said, "I could use some normal friends while I'm here. Some friends not trying to pawn me off to the first good-looking single guy available."

"I'd like for us to be friends, Dotty." Jim said. "All three of us."

"Of course all three of us," Dotty said.

Jim nodded. "Yeah, that could work." He dredged a french fry through ketchup and wondered how much hell there would be to pay when he got home.

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

It was childish and it was stupid and he'd done it anyway.

A date. Jim was out on a fucking date. Right there in front of everyone in town, Jim let a matchmaker set him up with some knockout blonde.

And he had just stood there like a jerk and smiled and told them to have a good time. He'd practically given his blessing for his lover to share dinner with an ex-model. A statuesque, amazingly gorgeous ex-model. The dinner he and Jim were supposed to be sharing with each other. It made him want to puke.

Blair had let it happen. His quick wit and cleverness had dried up when he'd seen Dotty. Hearing Merrie talk about her had been painful in a dull, horribly fascinating way. Watching her with Jim had been painful in an exquisitely sharp way. It seemed to have sliced away his good sense. He'd done everything but given Jim fifty dollars to pay for the fucking meal.

Like a coward, he'd quickly slipped out of the meeting hall, ignoring both Jim and Merrie calling after him. He driven home alone while his boyfriend was on a date.

A goddamn fucking date.

He knew he should find the humor in it. The look on Jim's face when he finally realized he'd been railroaded into a dinner engagement had been priceless.

Instead, Blair's fears were re-enforced. The vision had laid his choices out clearly for him. Well, sort of clearly. As clearly as a vision did. He couldn't keep waiting, beating around the bush, hoping everything would fall back into place.

Coyote had told him choose or the choice will be made for him.

He thought he had. Jim. When he had seen Jim rush into the meeting hall, his thoughts and his heart tangled up and caught fire. Jim. That was his choice.

Now, he was confused again. It was his own damn fault. If he'd spoken up, he would be the one sitting with Jim right now. Enjoying Jim's company, Jim's laughter. It ached to think of Jim sharing himself with Dotty.

Jim. God, it seemed like he'd loved Jim all his life. It wasn't true, of course. Blair had been in love one other time. He had loved enough then to want a commitment. At least he had thought he had. In retrospect, he wasn't sure if he would have been willing to leave Jim even then.

Just a few months after she'd gone, Blair had chosen Jim over Borneo. A few years later he'd chosen Jim over his doctorate.

But he had left Jim eventually. Packed up and snuck away to start a life he'd been sure would never include Jim. Never include love.

Maybe he would have chosen her over Jim. Maybe not.

Now the choice presented itself again. He pictured Jim with Dotty. Both tall, gorgeous and fit. A man and a woman. A better choice for Jim all the way around then Blair was.

Jim could go public with Dotty. Could be with her in front of the whole damn town, the whole damn world, and the only thing anyone would think was that they wished they were Dotty and Jim.

They could marry, have children. Have grandchildren. A life and a love out in the open. Didn't Jim deserve that?

Or, was that little scenario what Blair wanted for himself?

A relationship that could be cemented under a chupah while family and friends cheered?

Not a relationship that was a dirty little secret. A love that could feasibly be this year's biggest scandal if anyone discovered it.

Choose or the choice will be made for you.

He loved Jim so much. He could tell himself forever that he'd get over Jim Ellison if he let him go but would he?

Blair sat in front of the computer. Maybe he needed to review his choices. The dial up took far too long. He logged onto his email account.

In the saved section were three letters from her. In the inbox one waited, unopened. He clicked the icon and read the first letter, dated two weeks ago.

_Dear Blair,_  
I am taking the chance that your email address is still the same. I tried to call you at Rainier but they said you don't work there anymore.  
I know it has been a long time, Blair. I hardly know where to start. So much has happened to me in the last two years. I guess you could say I've finally grown up.  
Only now do I realize what I gave up when I left you, Blair. Please write to me. I have so much to tell you.  
Yours,  
Maya 

 

He hadn't written back. He didn't know what to say and he wasn't sure he wanted to know what she had to say. The second letter had come three days later.

_Dear Blair,_  
I assume you received my first letter since it didn't bounce back. I know you must be busy but please write to me. Once you told me that you would wait for me. Did you mean it?  
Write to me, Blair. If nothing else, I need to know you forgive me for all the mistakes I made. Please.  
Love,  
Maya 

He hadn't answered her second letter. He wasn't sure if he had forgiven her. Maya's unbelievable gullibility had directly led to the murder of two police officers.

It still stung Blair that she had fallen into Francisco's arms a few months after proclaiming she loved him. She'd said she needed time to discover her feelings yet, she'd quickly become the bed partner of a Chilean warlord.

She'd offered her virginity to Blair out of love. Out of honor, he'd turned her away. Would things have been different if he had made love to her that night in his office?

He clicked to the third letter.

_Dear Blair,_  
I wish I knew for sure that you were reading this letter. I can only hope.  
I miss you, Blair. I've missed you for a long time. I have no excuse. I was foolish. I made the wrong decision at every turn.  
I want a chance to make it up to you.  
Please write to me.  
Love,  
Maya 

 

Before he met her, he'd worried she was another clueless coed. After spending a short time with her, he'd fallen head over heels in love with her.

Or had he? Had he fallen in love with Maya the person or had he fallen for a lovely face, masses of dark hair and a soft Spanish accent?

He'd been crazy for her but there had been things about her that disturbed him. How could she have grown up in her father's house and never had a single suspicion about the ammunitions smuggling? The girl had adored her father. He understood that. He adored Naomi but he wasn't totally blind to her faults. He didn't close his eyes to what went on around him.

Had he loved her or had he loved the way she saw him? She'd told him over and over how good-looking he was, how smart he was, how funny he was. Blair was enough of a male animal to want to bask in her admiration.

Blair had been so mixed up at the time. Just a few days before, he and Jim had been heading out to lunch when they were caught in the crossfire of a bank robbery. Jim had sent Blair off to call for back up while he charged in with a single revolver to fight criminals armed with fully automatic assault rifles.

Blair had made the call then rushed back to the crime scene. There, he'd taken out a couple of the bank robbers with a blast from a fire hose. He hadn't wanted to return but he couldn't help himself. The fear he felt for his own safety was miniscule compared to his fear for Jim's. That should have been his first clue.

Later, as the robbers were cuffed and hauled away, Blair sat on the hood of a car trying to get his bearings. Jim stood by him, offering comfort in his gruff, posturing, macho way. All Blair could think about was how much he'd like to press himself against Jim. How good it would taste if he were to run his tongue along the side of Jim's throat. Jim looked amazing in that moment. Some super cop, super man, bigger than life hero rolled into a six foot tall bundle of heat.

Blair had freaked himself out. His feelings were inappropriate. Wrong. Gay.

So he'd buried everything as quickly as possible and chalked it up to a severe case of hero worship. Sentinel envy.

Then Maya had come along and she looked at Blair like he had looked at Jim. So their courtship had begun.

Is that all it had been? Transferring his feelings for Jim to someone safe and acceptable?

Maybe.

He clicked to the unopened email.

_Blair,_  
Why won't you answer me? I'm going crazy wondering what you are thinking. Do you still have any feelings at all for me? Do you hate me? Is there someone else? Please, Blair, let me know.  
I am living in Mexico City now. Sometimes, I think I have no one in my life at all that I can depend on. I need you, Blair. Please write to me as soon as you can.  
All my love,  
Maya 

Yeah, that sounded more like the real Maya. A little whiny, a little demanding. A little me, me, me. Spoiled brat. Wanting it all and wanting it now.

Sort of like how he'd been acting the last couple of weeks.

Having someone as wonderful as Jim promise to love him and be with him forever hadn't been enough. No, he'd wanted to rub it in the faces of everyone they knew.

Was he really that insecure that knowing Jim loved him wasn't good enough? Everyone else had to acknowledge it too?

Or was he still punishing Jim for thinking Blair had betrayed him eight months ago in Cascade? Blair had believed he had put it all behind him. That by opening his heart and home to Jim he had proven he was over it. Jim had apologized, he had apologized and everything was forgiven.

Or was it?

Did Blair really need the public declarations because other couples got them, or did he want the public declarations so Jim couldn't easily cut out on him?

What the hell did he know or care about what other couples did anyway? Naomi had raised him to thumb his nose at conventional mores. He knew better than to let the judgment of others rule his life.

But Naomi had taught him another, more painful lesson as well. She'd showed him over and over that even the most important person in your life can say I love you and still walk away when you needed them most. Isn't that what she'd done to him growing up?

Isn't that basically what he'd done to Jim in Cascade?

Wasn't that what he was afraid Jim would do to him?

He couldn't answer Maya's letter yet. He needed to cushion his thanks but no thanks and have a nice life but right now he couldn't be bothered with her.

Blair wasn't a lonely little boy wondering when and where his mother was going to ditch him anymore. He wasn't a frightened adolescent dumped off at a university in a strange city either. Nor was he a hurt, angry kid whose best friend had just accused him of being faithless.

He was a man now. A man in love, who was loved in return. Once again he had the brass ring within reach and once again he'd almost let it slip out of his grasp.

This life, for all that wasn't perfect, was a good life. Jim was happy here. So was he for the most part. It was up to him to work on what wasn't right and learn to accept the limitations. His limitations, Jim's, the town's.

For a smart guy, sometimes he could be a total dolt.

When Jim came home tonight, Blair was going to show him, going to remind him, that he belonged to Blair. No more big, beautiful blondes for Jim. Ever.

As he drew the curtains in the kitchen closed, he had a strange feeling that he was being watched. Great, Sandburg. Add paranoia to stupidity.

He went into their bedroom to get it ready for Jim.

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

Jim and Dotty lingered for a few moments over coffee. He liked her. After two weeks of the cold shoulder from Sandburg, of measuring and weighing every word that passed between them, shooting the breeze with Dotty had been uncomplicated and pleasant.

When he dropped her off at Willa's house he invited her to come out to the reservation sometime.

"I think I'll wait till I get the all clear first," Dotty said.

"The all clear?"

"Yeah," Dotty laughed. "I don't want Blair to try to rip my throat out."

I wish he cared enough to try, Jim thought. Blair had let him go on this little date way too easily. A kiss off? No, no there was no mistaking the hunger in Blair's eyes right before Willa had interrupted.

Jim shifted in the driver's seat to accommodate his cock swelling as he thought of Blair. Jim remembered the first time he'd realized that his feelings for Sandburg were stronger than friendship.

Blair had been seeing Maya. At first because Jim had asked him to try and find out what he could about Maya's father, a suspected munitions runner. Then Blair dated the girl because he had begun to care for her.

Jim and Michelle Drennan, a Federal agent, had finally found the evidence to connect Maya's father to the smuggled guns. Jim had sat at his desk in the bullpen, turning a plastic cube paperweight over and over in his hand. He'd dreaded calling Sandburg, knowing the kid would be devastated.

Finally, he'd gathered his courage and placed the call. When Sandburg had snatched up the phone and said, desperation in his voice, "Maya?" Jim's heart shattered. He hadn't even admitted to himself how much he wanted Sandburg until Blair broke his heart again by saying, "I'm in love with her, Jim."

At that point, deeply wounded but not showing it, Jim had almost relished telling Blair the truth about Hector Carasco. Jim could hear Blair's tiny gasps of pain on the other end of the line and he had savored them. There was some savage satisfaction in hurting Blair in that moment. A sweetness in sharing the wealth of pain that was crushing the breath out of Jim.

Yeah, Ellison, you always were a fucking prince.

Later that night, Jim had done something he was so ashamed of, not only had he never told Blair, he rarely let himself think of it. When Maya showed up at the loft to tell Blair she was leaving for Chile, Jim had listened in. Oh, he'd stood in the kitchen cooking and nodding his head at Drennan but in reality, he had trained his hearing on Blair and Maya. He'd heard the hitch in Blair's voice as he had asked her to stay.

The petty side of Jim rejoiced in Maya's refusal. But the better part of him, the part that cared for Sandburg, hated her for it. Late that night, Jim had listened to Blair quietly cry himself to sleep. Those tears made Jim want to kill the bitch.

She'd made Blair cry. Blair, who to him, was sun and energy and goodness. The bitch.

For months afterward Jim could detect the sorrow just below Blair's smiles and laughter. And just as it seemed Blair was coming back to himself, Maya had breezed back into Cascade and faked her own kidnapping in a ruse to extort money from her father. When Jim thought of how close Blair had come to dying at the hands of Maya's boyfriend, Francisco, he was filled with rage.

Jim had never said a word against Maya. Had never mentioned her again and neither had Blair. Jim had buried his growing attraction to Blair and their lives had gone on.

All ancient history. He had more important issues to deal with, like tonight's date.

A few years ago, Dotty would have been just his type. She'd even smelled good to him, but she hadn't smelled right. She was light and flowery; not forest and herb.

She had been charming company but she hadn't stimulated his brain. She hadn't taken his idea turned it on its side and made him see it in a whole new light like Blair could. She was lovely and feminine but he craved exotic and masculine.

No, his days of skirt chasing had come to a close. The only thing he was interested in running after was his Guide. Jim pulled his truck into the unpaved driveway behind Blair's Ford. He could hear Blair moving around in the house. As he stepped on the porch, Jim had an odd feeling he was being watched. He scanned the darkness. Nothing. He listened to the night air. Nothing. Probably just an animal in the hills.

Jim wiped his boots on the mat at the entrance way and turned the doorknob. Blair swung the door open and pulled Jim into his arms. Blair's mouth was on his, tongue pressing at the seam of Jim's lips. Jim quickly complied, enthusiastically returning the kiss.

When they were both a little breathless, Blair let him go. Blair's eyes were bright. "Hey, Jim."

"Hey, Chief," Jim said, running his hands over Blair's back.

"How was your dinner date?" Blair said, stepping into the living room while Jim shut the door behind them.

Jim could detect nothing but mild curiosity in Blair's tone. "Good, I guess. Dotty's a nice woman. I like her."

"I'm sure she is. Maybe next time all three of us can get together." Blair moved into the kitchen, grabbing two beers from the refrigerator. He twisted the tops off and handed one to Jim then leaned against the kitchen counter. "Maybe Merrie could come along."

"Those two together? It would be interesting, that's for sure."

Blair smiled and took a long swallow of his beer.

"Look, Chief," Jim said, "about me going out to dinner with Dotty. I'm sorry."

"For what? Willa engineered it and I didn't exactly help the situation by heading out."

"Thanks, Blair." Jim shook his head. "You know, I thought we were going to have a fight about this thing."

"This 'thing'? You mean your date?" Blair chuckled.

"Yeah," Jim said. "You're being really great about this."

"What did you expect, Jim? That I'd throw a hissy fit? I'm a grown man, Jim, not a fifteen year old girl."

"No, of course you're not. I just, well, thanks."

"Why don't you take a quick shower? I'd like to talk to you tonight. There are some things I want to tell you." Jim froze. Blair must have picked up on Jim's fear immediately because he added "Nothing bad, Jim. Just some stuff I should have told you about before, okay?" He kissed Jim briefly. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Jim said, taking his beer with him into the bathroom. When Jim came out of the shower, the little house was dark. The scent of warm wax and cinnamon oil reached him. His cock stirred beneath the towel he'd draped around his body. Sandburg had more than talk in mind.

Blair, dressed in a black robe, sat on the edge of their bed. The room was illuminated by three fat, unscented candles on the dresser. The bed was stripped down to the flat sheet and a small, satin covered pillow was centered on it.

Jim leaned over to brush his lips across Blair's. "I thought we were going to talk," Jim said. The terrycloth covered erection mere inches from Blair's face belayed Jim's interest in conversation.

"Actually," Blair said, slipping the towel from Jim's hips, "I'm going to talk and you're going to listen."

"Ah," Jim answered, as Blair's tongue circled the tip of his erection, "so what's new?"

"Lie down, Jim." Blair motioned for Jim to get on the bed. "What's new is this time you're going to listen with an open mind. No matter how weird it sounds, I want you to listen and try to believe me, okay?"

"I always believe you, Chief," Jim answered as he climbed on the bed.

"Thanks." Blair stood and let his robe fall to the floor. Jim stopped to admire Blair's body. Compact, slim, youthful. Jim had explored every centimeter of that body at least a thousand times in the last four months. God willing, he'd have the next forty years, too.

"Later," Blair laughed, easily reading Jim's intentions.

"Not much later though, right?"

"Not too much later, I promise. We talk first." Jim sprawled face down on the bed, settling his hard cock on the satin pillow. Blair, always thoughtful of Jim's sensitivity, made sure they had the expensive Egyptian brushed cotton sheets on their bed. A week after Jim had moved in, Blair had given him the satin covered pillow for nights like tonight when even the fine texture of the sheet would be too much for Jim. Blair hated him to have to dial down too far when he fucked him.

Blair asked the question that started their little ritual. "Can you stay still?"

And Jim gave him the answer they both wanted. "I think I need help."

"Okay. Put your arms out." Jim stretched his hands out toward the bedposts. Blair slipped a knotted scarf around each wrist and fastened each to a bedpost. "Good?" he asked.

Jim pulled firmly at the scarves. Snug but not too tight. The silk felt as cool and slick on his wrists as the satin felt on his cock. There was comfort and excitement in relinquishing his strength to Blair.

"Yeah, it's good," Jim answered.

"Okay, good." Blair threw his leg over Jim and straddled the bigger man's buttocks. Jim sighed. He relished Blair's weight pinning him to the mattress. This was something they didn't do often and Jim intended to enjoy every minute of it.

He heard Blair rubbing his hands together, the friction heating the cinnamon oil and releasing its scent into the air. They'd experimented with numerous oils before selecting cinnamon. It was pungent but not overwhelming to Jim. The only drawback he had found was that walking passed Kay Willcox's bakery on Saturday mornings tended to give him a boner.

Blair started at the base of Jim's skull, drawing deep circles in the taunt muscle there. Jim moaned in pleasure. A long day at work and two weeks of grieving and loneliness, were being bled out with each stroke of Blair's warm hands on his flesh.

"Are you listening, Jim?"

"Yeah, Chief, I'm listening."

"Okay, some of this is kind of out there." Blair moved up to work the tension out of Jim's upper arms. "I should have told you this right from the start but I didn't want to hear you mock it."

"Blair," Jim interrupted, "I don't mock you."

"You're right," Blair blew out a loud breath. "No, you don't exactly mock me but you're cynical by nature."

"Blair," Jim started.

"Hey, no interrupting, okay?" Blair continued to dig into the tight muscles of Jim's upper arms. As they relaxed under his hands, he moved outward toward Jim's wrists. "Your cynicism is a big part of what made you a good Ranger and what makes you a good cop. For now, though, I want you to hear as my friend, to listen, without judgment."

Jim grunted his affirmation.

"I told you about my training with Tommy but I didn't tell you everything."

Jim listened carefully, trying to hear Blair's words without shading them with his own skepticism. He lay quietly, enjoying the firm, rhythmic movement of Blair's hands on his body. Enjoying the almost hypnotic quality of Blair's voice. Visions, dreams, magic, Blair explained.

He tried, but Jim couldn't stop himself from blurting out "Control over the elements, Chief?"

"Yes. I've seen it, Jim, on several occasions. Tommy Bear has power over fire. I've watched him start a blaze with a wave of his hand."

"It could be a trick."

"It's not. Look, Jim, I might teach elementary school now, but I'm still a scientist. Tommy let me examine the material he was going to burn before and after the fire and the technique he uses in a controlled environment numerous times. It's for real, Jim."

"Okay," Jim said, keeping his voice neutral. "And can you start fire, too?"

"No, I can't. Fire isn't my gift, I guess. But I do have the visions." Blair began to describe some of the visions he'd had over the last few months. "The thing is, I'm not always sure if it's a vision or just a dream. They're so realistic sometimes and other times so vague. When it comes to interpreting them, though, I'm not exactly a good soothsayer, yet."

Jim thought of the visions he'd had since accepting himself as a Sentinel. He knew how easily a vision could be misinterpreted and how much a bad call on its meaning could cost. Jim almost lost Blair for good when he'd misread a vision. In it he'd killed a wolf that turned into Blair.

"I do understand that," Jim said.

"I know you do," Blair said, massaging back down Jim's arms to his shoulders. "There's more, too. Tommy said that you and I, as Sentinel and Shaman, should be able to communicate on higher levels. That we can meet on higher planes."

"You don't think he meant..."

"No, Jim, I'm pretty sure he wasn't talking about simultaneous orgasms." Blair leaned down to nip sharply at Jim's shoulder. Jim squirmed, his cock rubbing on the satin pillow. "You're still concentrating on my story, right?"

"Oh, yeah," Jim answered. He was also concentrating on the almost fluid material beneath his erection, the rough yet silky hair of Blair's thighs pressed into his hips, the hard, smooth column of Blair's cock resting along the cleft of his ass cheeks.

"Pay attention," Blair warned.

"I am, Chief." Blair's hands moved to Jim's upper back, twisting and relaxing the flesh covering Jim's shoulder blades.

"I'm hoping to achieve Shamanic flight. A trained Shaman can leave his body and fly not only great distances but between the past and present and future. Tommy told me that as Sentinel and Shaman, we could make that journey together."

"Together?"

"We're joined as Sentinel and Shaman already. We could do it eventually. I know that seems impossible but the same ancient cultures that believe in Shamanic flight believe in Sentinels and Shamans." Blair placed his hands on Jim's spine and, using the heel of his hand, put gentle pressure on the space between each vertebra. "And you and I most certainly exist."

Jim moaned softly. Blair continued to explain. "I should be able to carry your senses with me when I achieve flight."

He'd hit his wall of disbelief. "Flight?" Jim bit out.

Blair swallowed back a harsh retort. He couldn't really expect Jim to buy everything all at once. A lifetime of learning wasn't erased in one evening. For that reason, Blair didn't mention that a week ago he had raised his hand two feet above three feathers and they lifted and danced in a breeze that had existed nowhere else.

Tommy had nodded and said, "Your gift will be wind." There were just too many openings for jokes there so Blair held back.

Nor did he mention the visions that had been plaguing him the last two weeks about choosing his life path. Jim believed that Blair had made that decision months ago. And he had, Blair realized. He'd just gotten a little distracted, a little confused there for a couple of weeks.

He had no intention of letting Jim go. Ever. No sexy blondes or stray bullets or moments of total stupidity were going to keep them apart.

"We can talk more later," Blair said. "We've got time."

"Got forever," Jim said.

"Forever," Blair confirmed. He slid down until he was sitting on the backs of Jim's legs and began to massage Jim's thighs. God, he loved this man's body. The strength of it, the muscles just underneath the yards of sleek hot skin. Perfection.

Blair's hands inched up until he was just brushing the tight opening into Jim's body with his cinnamon scented oil drenched fingertips.

Jim emitted a long, low growl and tugged at the scarves binding his wrists.

How could Blair have ever entertained the idea of giving this up for one second, let alone agonize over it for weeks? This was his and his alone. Jim was everything to and for him.

And Jim was faithful. Jim would stand beside, behind or in front of him. Whatever Blair needed. Whatever Blair wanted.

He'd almost blown it.

Blair dipped his head and lapped at the small of Jim's back. Cinnamon and Sentinel.

Blair stretched out, covering Jim's body with his own. "I'm not too heavy?" he asked, continuing their ritual.

"No, just right," came Jim's answer.

Blair reached out his arms and threaded his fingers through Jim's. Using the leverage of their linked hands, Blair slowly slid his body up and down Jim's. Jim moaned, lifting himself up slightly to increase the slick friction between them.

"Dial up a little," Blair whispered into Jim's ear.

Blair was shorter than Jim but his torso was nearly as big, his shoulders almost as wide. When laid out over Jim, Blair nearly matched him.

The first time Jim had asked him for this, Blair had been shocked. He and Jim were partners, equals in their relationship. Blair was aware that Jim deferred to him on many things. He always had. Blair, in return, had deferred to Jim on some issues. An occasional shouting match ensued over some things but mostly, there was a comfortable balance between the two men.

Jim wanting to experience Blair's dominance over him had freaked Blair out. Yeah, Blair had liked it, had found it exciting on various levels but it had worried him. In the back of his mind he wondered if this game meant he wasn't enough for Jim. He had been concerned Jim was going to use this to fantasize about someone else. To substitute Blair for the larger, stronger, more forceful lover Jim had had either in the past or wanted in the future.

His childhood with Naomi had left plenty of room for fucking insecure ideas.

But, as he had taken Jim that first night, as he felt Jim give himself up to Blair's control, Jim had whispered over and over "Blair, Blair, Blair." Then he understood. This was Jim allowing someone else to be in charge. This was Jim turning over the reins even for a few hours. This was Jim placing his body, his safety and his love in the one person he truly trusted. Blair.

It was humbling. It was incredibly hot.

Jim could literally count the individual hairs on Blair's body as they rubbed and slid across his back and buttocks. It sensitized his skin. It was heaven.

He could feel the ridge that separated the long thick shaft of Blair's cock from the head, as Blair dragged himself across Jim. So good.

"Dial up a little more," Blair said. Jim let his senses inch up, trusting his Guide, his lover, to take care of him. To catch him if he fell too far, too fast.

The satin was moist from his dripping cock. Soon. Soon Blair would penetrate him, fuck him hard. Let him go a little out of his mind.

"Can you dial up any more or are you there?"

"Almost there."

"Okay, then wait," Blair commanded.

"Yes." He knew what would come next.

Blair unlaced his fingers from Jim's. He dragged his short nails over Jim, just scoring the skin. Over the tops of Jim's hands, up his forearms, across his upper arms, to Jim's shoulders. Blair shifted till he was kneeling between Jim's spread thighs.

"Are you okay, Jim?"

"Yes. More." Jim couldn't hold back a groan. The slight scraping of his skin was probably not even deep enough to leave marks that would show tomorrow. Yet, with his touch dialed up like this, he could feel the light scratching deep into his flesh. Trails of hot, red sensitivity were left behind.

Then Blair started on Jim's back. Crisscrossing again and again till the very air burned his skin.

"Higher, Jim. Dial up higher." Jim felt Blair brush oiled fingertips against the opening into his body. Each time lingering, pressing a little deeper, loosening Jim a little more.

"Blair," Jim pleaded.

"Get up."

Jim pushed forward to rest on his elbows and lifted his hips up. "Please, Blair." The mattress dipped behind him as Blair got into position. "Please."

"Please what?" Blair asked. Jim could feel the head of Blair's cock, wet with precome and lubricant, bobbing against his ass cheeks.

"Please fuck me, Blair." Jim thrust his hips back, encouraging Blair to take him.

"Tell me why."

"I need it. I need you, Blair."

"Can you handle it? Are you ready?"

"Yes."

"Don't move." Blair said.

Jim immediately stilled.

At last. For the first time in at least three weeks, Blair would be inside him.

"Please," Jim nearly whimpered.

Blair patted Jim's flank affectionately. "Love you, Jim." Jim sucked in a deep breath as Blair's cock settled into his puckered hole. Blair grasped Jim's hips, fingers digging in.

With one long, liquid push, Blair was fully seated in Jim. "Dial all the way up."

"Yes," Jim hissed. Blair stayed motionless for a moment as Jim's body stretched to accommodate him. "God," Jim moaned. "Perfect."

With his senses wide open, Jim could feel the smooth shaft of Blair's cock buried within him. Could distinguish every bump, every vein, and the velvety texture of the mushroom head. Could hear Blair's blood rushing through his erection. Jim clenched his channel tighter around Blair.

Blair withdrew completely. Jim pushed back, trying to keep Blair lodged in him.

"No," Blair said, giving Jim's buttocks a stinging slap. "I lead this, Jim." When Jim held still, Blair filled him to the hilt again. He pulled out again then slammed back in.

Jim trembled under the force of Blair's strength. With his sense of touch opened up, Blair overwhelmed him. As if Blair's heartbeat led his, Blair's breath filled his lungs. Blair. Completely filled with Blair, as he should be.

Blair entered him again and began to move. Slowly at first, pulling out all but the head of his cock, then advancing back. Jim wrapped his fists in the blue silk of the scarves that bound his wrists and held tight as Blair's strokes become faster, more forceful.

"I love being in you, Jim," Blair said. "You're so hot and tight. Just made for my cock."

Blair's voice vibrated in Jim. "Made for you, Blair. Just you." Jim's cock throbbed. He couldn't touch it with his wrists restrained and Blair had him positioned up too high to hump it against the satin pillow.

His senses wide open now; Jim was caught up not only in the physical act of sex but all the stimulants surrounding him. The scent of cinnamon, wax, musky bright sweat and Blair washed in waves over Jim. The sound of their breathing, the pounding of their blood, the slap of flesh against flesh echoed inside him. The air tasted of Blair and Jim's own salty pre-ejaculate. The glow of candles softened the darkness that secreted them away and cloaked their lovemaking in privacy.

Blair's rapid, controlled pounding into his body was making Jim frantic. His cock ached to be touched, ached to come. He knew he could orgasm from Blair's rhythmic pistoning but he wanted the security, the comfort of Blair's hand on him.

"Blair," he managed to get out.

Blair seemed to understand what he needed. Blair reached around their bodies and Jim sighed with relief. But instead of caressing Jim's cock, Blair grasped the base and squeezed tight. "You can't come yet, Jim." Blair slammed into him, saying in between almost harsh strokes, "This. Is. For. Me."

Crying out Jim's name, Blair collapsed against Jim's back, his hot come bathing Jim.

"Blair, please." Jim thought he might go insane.

After a moment, Blair lifted himself off Jim and pulled the older man's hips higher. "Trust me, man," Blair panted as he flipped on his back and slid under Jim's elevated hips, between his parted thighs. Blair rested his head on the satin pillow.

"Fuck my mouth, Jim," Blair whispered. "I want to taste you."

"God, yes." Jim eased his cock into the wet heat of Blair's open mouth. Jim longed to take it easy, to prolong the immense pleasure of Blair's sweet mouth devouring him but he couldn't. The hot trickle of Blair's seed running down his ass, Blair's clever fingers pinching and pulling his nipples, Blair's incredible lips sucking at him, were all together too much.

"So fucking good," Jim rasped as he spurted into the hungry mouth. Blair continued to lick and nibble at Jim's softening cock until Jim's shuddering ceased.

Then Blair slid up the mattress till he and Jim were face to face. He kissed Jim deeply. While their mouths were pressed together, Blair worked the knots from the silk scarves.

Hands freed, Jim wrapped his arms around Blair and rolled so that Blair lay on top of him.

"Dial back down now, Jim."

"Yeah, I am." He pressed his face into Blair's neck. "I love you, Chief."

"I love you, too," Blair said. "You're okay?"

"Perfect now." Content that whatever had been going so wrong in their world was righted now, Jim slept sated, Blair in his arms.

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

As he drifted off, he and Jim wrapped around each other, Blair smiled. In his heart he whispered "I choose Jim. I choose Jim."

He was asleep when Coyote spoke on the wind. "Too late, Wolf. The choice has already been made for you."

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

From his perch in the woods, he watched the lights go off in the little house. He knew they had made love. He had seen Blair kiss Ellison at the door. Dios. All that beauty and passion squandered on an old man. It sickened him.

Knowing they were together, that Ellison was surely fucking what should have been his, was torture. If he could turn back time, Blair would have been his from the start. He would have found a way to charm him. He was a master at that sort of thing. Now, he would have to use force to bring Blair to him.

So be it.

The time was almost here.

Ellison had stayed in town and had dinner with some blonde whore while Blair came home alone. Why? He would never have wasted a moment with some cow when he could have been with Blair. Why had Ellison? More proof that Ellison didn't deserve Blair.

Ellison should enjoy Blair while he could. He wouldn't have him much longer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An enemy from their past threatens to destroy the life Jim and Blair have begun to build in Pinecrest.

Jim woke before dawn on Thursday morning, wrapped in Blair's arms. Thank God. Fire, not ice, in their bed again. He knew Blair was holding back more than he was telling but if Blair wasn't willing to spill, he was willing to wait. Jim was pretty damn sure it was something he didn't want to hear anyway.

Blair shifted in his sleep, pulling Jim tighter into his embrace. Jim marveled at the difference forty-eight hours made. Two nights ago, Blair had slept with his back to him and three feet of empty bed between them. Now, Blair was plastered to him, arms around him, their legs intertwined.

Jim tangled his hand in Blair's hair. Silky, sweet smelling. There were still a few hours until their jobs called them away from each other and Jim intended to luxuriate in Blair's warmth until then.

Yeah, today would be a whole lot easier to face then the last few had been. His cheek cushioned on Blair's chest, Jim was lulled back to sleep.

When he awoke a second time, it was to the alarm. He had thirty minutes until kids started piling into the school and he wanted to see Blair before they did.

Jim stretched, inhaling the lingering scents of their lovemaking. God, he felt terrific.

He hurriedly shaved, showered and dressed. He gulped down the coffee and pumpkin bread Blair had left for him on the kitchen counter. Pumpkin bread. The first fifty or so loaves the grandmothers had sent had been delicious. The last fifty, well, Jim was glad the winter stores of squash, pumpkins and assorted gourds were almost gone.

He still had fifteen minutes before kids started showing up and he wanted to snag a goodbye kiss. Blair was sitting behind his desk grading papers.

"Hey, Chief."

Blair gave him a brilliant smile and motioned him over. When Jim stood beside him, Blair grabbed the front of his tan uniform shirt and pulled him down for a kiss. "Morning, Sheriff."

"Morning, Teacher." Jim knew a goofy grin covered his face but he didn't care. Blair was looking at him like he was the center of the known universe and he loved it. "I've got to get into town but I wanted to say goodbye."

"Good. I hoped you'd stop by. Be careful today, okay?"

"Always. I love you." Jim started to lean in for another kiss then pulled back. "Merrie's here."

Merrie breezed into the classroom, Molly and Megan in her wake. "Hi, guys."

"Hi," Blair said. "I'll see you tonight, Jim."

"Later, Chief. Ladies." As Jim made his way to his truck, Merrie shooed the girls to Blair.

"Help Mr. Sandburg for a minute. Mom's got to talk to Sheriff Ellison."

She caught Jim as he was climbing in to the cab. "Jim, wait a second."

Jim leaned against the open door of the truck. "Merrie, what's wrong?"

She balled up her small hand and punched him twice in the left arm before he grabbed her by the wrist. "You're what's wrong, you big jerk."

Jim was stunned. "What did I do to piss you off?"

Merrie yanked her hand from his. "Don't play stupid with me, Jim Ellison."

"I'm not playing stupid."

"No, I guess you just are stupid. How could you do that to Blair?"

"Do what?"

"Take Dotty Cruz on a date."

"Merrie, it wasn't like that and how did you know anyway? We just had dinner together last night."

"You sat in the front window of the diner on a council meeting night. The whole damn county knows you two are dating." She poked his chest with her forefinger. "How could you? Poor Blair."

"Merrie," Jim tried again, "it wasn't a date."

"Really? You leave your boyfriend all alone to take some woman out to eat and that's not a date?"

Boyfriend. It was the first time Jim had heard Blair referred to as his boyfriend. It was such a lukewarm word for everything Blair was to him.

"Look, Blair is okay with last night so I don't think it's really any of your business." Boyfriend? The word bothered him. It was such a transient term but there wasn't another that came to mind. Lover? That was worse.

"It is my business if you hurt him. He's my friend and something has been bothering him for weeks. The last thing he needed was for you to go on a date and flaunt it in front of the entire town."

"Merrie, Willa sort of forced the issue. It wasn't a date. Dotty knows that, Blair knows that. Okay?"

"Not okay." She took a deep breath and leaned back against the fender near Jim. "Blair will kill me if he finds out I told you this."

"Maybe you shouldn't tell me then." Jim didn't want anything to rock the world that was finally settling down again.

"Nope, you need to hear it. Yesterday I told Blair about Dotty coming back and teased him about the old hens in Pinecrest looking to fix you and Dotty up."

"Great," Jim sighed.

"He didn't see the humor in it at all, Jim. He said Dotty sounded just like your type."

"He didn't."

"Oh yes, he did. I think he meant it, too."

"Don't be ridiculous. Blair knows he's...knows we're...He knows."

"He knows? Yesterday he didn't want me to say anything because he was afraid that his being upset would upset you."

"I appreciate your concern, Merrie, but we've worked out our differences, okay?" He wondered if they really had. The sex had been spectacular last night, but then, it always was. He'd work a little harder to find out what had been bothering Blair. Even if he didn't want to hear it, maybe Blair needed to say it. "All right, Merrie?"

She nodded. "All right. Just don't screw this up, Jim. Blair is wonderful and you're lucky to have him."

"I know that." He playfully tugged a lock of her long, black hair. "Truce?"

"Truce," she smiled. Merrie was halfway back to the school when Jim called to her.

"Merrie?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks." She waved and disappeared into the schoolhouse.

Jim's stomach clenched for a minute. No, everything is okay, he assured himself. Everything is okay.

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

Merrie stalked up to Blair's desk. The girls were across the room playing on the floor. "Jim went on a date with Dotty last night."

"Yep," Blair said and continued to grade papers.

"And you're not mad?"

"Totally not mad."

"Are you nuts?"

Blair laughed. "No, the whole thing was a comedy of errors. Willa pushed the two of them out the door and I kind of let it happen."

"Kind of?"

"Okay, I let it happen." He lifted his hands in surrender. "I was feeling a little pissy and I let it happen."

"Is that why you ignored me when I was calling you last night after the meeting?"

"Yeah. Me and my Victorian vapors hauled ass out of there." He smiled at her. "Everything is cool, Merrie."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Dotty understands too? She knows Jim isn't going to be dating her?"

"Apparently so. I guess the only ones who don't understand are the matchmakers." He gave Merrie a sly grin. "Why don't you get a babysitter for tomorrow night. The four of us should have a Friday night out."

"The four of us?"

"Why not? Give the old hens a field day."

Merrie giggled. "God, you're evil, Blair."

He shrugged modestly. "Yeah, I am."

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

He'd been watching and waiting for an opportunity to get inside the house. Ellison was gone most days and some evenings but Blair was rarely further away than the school.

He probably should have slipped in Wednesday night under the cover of dark but he had followed Blair into town instead. Blair had looked spectacular that evening, dressed up rather than in the casual clothing he usually wore. It had taken all of his strength not to grab him Wednesday. That would have been stupid. Francisco Rivero was many things but he was not stupid.

The twilight was falling as Blair, Ellison and the woman from the school got into Ellison's truck. The three were dressed for a night out. Good. His chance was finally here.

Francisco's heart skipped a beat as Ellison looked up to the hills where he hid. He dove into the trench he'd dug the first day he'd arrived. It was not the first time he'd hidden in it. Often it seemed to him that Ellison could almost see him, that Ellison knew they were being watched. Cop intuition, no doubt.

When the truck's taillights faded from view, Francisco climbed down the thickly wooded hill. Time was growing short for him. He felt it. He had escaped Federal prison two weeks ago. It wouldn't be long before the information made its way to Ellison. Although Ellison had no reason to believe Francisco would come for Blair, he might become more cautious, make it more difficult for Francisco to claim his prize.

Getting information about Blair Sandburg had been as easy as making a phone call. Even without Maya's father's money, Francisco was a rich man and money talked.

He knew, in reality, he should have hired someone to bring Blair to him in Chile but he couldn't bear the thought of anyone else near Blair. It was bad enough that Ellison was plowing Blair. He couldn't risk another person touching Blair or frightening him or hurting him. No, Blair was a rare treasure and must be handled carefully.

Francisco stood outside the house. The sky was almost black now. The house and school were set a few miles from the rest of the Watusma settlement. No one would have reason to be here with Ellison and Blair gone.

The door was locked. Dios. Wasn't that just like a cop? Out here, truly in the middle of nowhere, and the door was bolted. It took him less than a minute to pick the lock.

He wasn't sure what he'd expected to find in the house. Maybe a clue to getting Blair without raising Ellison's suspicions, maybe just closeness to Blair.

The tribal masks and various artifacts scattered about the living room must belong to Blair. The little house was clean and almost spartan. Blair would love Francisco's home in Chile. It was huge and filled with art, both primitive and modern.

He had heard of Blair's fall from grace at the university. He didn't have all the details but he was sure that Ellison was somehow to blame. Maya had told Francisco often enough of Blair's dedication to learning. He would never falsify research. Once they were settled into their life in Chile, Francisco would help Blair return to a university if he wanted. He would help Blair get the doctorate he'd been cheated out of. Francisco had vowed to himself that he would do anything and everything necessary to win Blair over. He would prove to Blair that he, Francisco, was a better man than that cop could ever be.

He wandered into the bedroom. The queen-sized bed was made but the unmistakable musk of recent sex permeated the air. It stole the breath from him. He was more than aware that the two of them were lovers but the actual proof of it sickened him.

He pulled open the door to the bedroom closet. Clothes from two very obviously different men hung side by side. He reached out and stroked a soft, blue shirt he recognized as Blair's.

His bedroom in Chile has a suite of closets, more than enough for him and Blair to have their own space. But after viewing the intimacy of Ellison's shirts and pants and shoes pressed against Blair's, perhaps his clothes would share a closet with Blair's. One day soon, just as he would share a bed with him.

He looked into the second bedroom. Small, it was set up as an office. Francisco pulled a slip of paper with Blair's email address and password on it. One of the better pieces of information he'd purchased.

He logged on the computer and began skimming Blair's email. Their old police captain and another cop from Cascade would be here tomorrow afternoon. He had been right. His time was growing short. If Ellison wasn't aware of Francisco's escape yet, he would be by the end of a week's vacation with Banks and Connor. Besides, Francisco had no desire to hide in the woods for another week or to let Ellison enjoy Blair's body for another week.

Ah, the little slut had finally moved to Mexico. His father, Gustavo, had worried for Maya's safety in Chile. There were many who wished to hurt her in order to punish her father. He read her next letter. So, she wanted Blair back. Apparently no one had informed the idiot that the relationship between Blair and his cop had changed and Blair was no longer charmed by womanly graces.

According to her letters, Blair had chosen not to answer her. An idea came to Francisco. He had worried how to take Blair without Ellison following immediately. He'd toyed happily with the thought of killing Ellison. Nothing would please him more than knowing that the man who had dared to touch Blair was rotting in the ground. He understood, however, that he would never win Blair with Ellison's blood on his hands.

So, he had to take Blair without violence against Ellison and he had to take Blair in such a way that Ellison would not immediately follow.

That stupid puta had provided a way. He reread her last letter. Excellent. He hit reply and began to type.

 

Dear Maya,  
Forgive me for not answering right away.  
I was surprised to hear from you after all this time and needed to think things through.  
You asked if there was someone else. There is, or rather, there was. I'd hoped things would work out but they haven't.

I do still love you, Maya. We've both made mistakes. I'd like to try again. Send me an address and I'll fly to Mexico as quickly as possible. We have a great deal to discuss and I'd like to do it face to face.

Much love,  
Blair

He hit send. Now, to make airline reservations on-line. Francisco would leave a trail a mile wide for Ellison to follow. It would lead him far from where Blair actually would be, of course.

Before he'd even had a chance to exit the account, Maya's response came in.

Blair,  
Thank God. I am living outside of Mexico City. Send your flight information and I will pick you up at the airport. I can't wait to see you again.

All my love,  
Maya

The little slut had hit reply so the letter he'd sent in Blair's name was at the bottom. Beautiful. Francisco printed it and put it in his pocket.

He made a reservation for tomorrow to Mexico City using Blair's VISA card number. It had a pathetically low balance available but enough to cover a coach ticket.

A quick call using his cell phone and one of his men was on the way to the airport in Cascade with a passport identifying him as Blair Sandburg. When Ellison followed the trail to the airport, and Francisco knew he would, the cop would discover his lover had checked in by himself and boarded a flight to Mexico City. If Ellison flew to Mexico, it could take weeks before he discovered Blair was not there.

There was no reason for Ellison to connect Francisco to Blair's defection. The only one who knew of Francisco's love for Blair was his old cellmate in the penitentiary. How unfortunate the cellmate had been killed during Francisco's escape. Just the same, Francisco had worn gloves while in the house. No reason to give Ellison any clues.

Who would have imagined his little whore of a cousin would end up being so much help to him? He shut off the computer and replaced the chair as it had been. Chances were small anyone would notice the difference but he wasn't willing to take the risk.

As he relocked the front door behind him, Francisco laughed aloud. Soon, within a day, Blair would be with him.

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

The four of them actually had fun, Jim marveled. Dotty and Merrie were thick as thieves in no time. With the women with them and both aware of their relationship, he and Blair were able to relax with one another in public.

An occasional brush of hands or leaning for a long moment against each other was no cause for alarm. There was no worry that they might be perceived as together in a way closer than friendship. It bothered Jim to some extent that to be honest with their feelings for each other, they to be dishonest with everyone else. Right now, though, he didn't care. He was happy.

Blair was talkative, entertaining, and charming. He seemed happy.

Jesus Christ, Blair was beautiful.

Blair pressed his leg against Jim's. His eyes made a promise that had Jim tingling in the pit of his belly.

Once they got home, Jim was sure they'd make love most of the night. Although they were looking forward to Simon and Connor's visit, they'd discussed how difficult it would be to be discreet. Blair was, once again, all for telling their old friends about them being a couple but, not knowing how they would react, the two men had decided to keep their hands off each other in front of them.

Jim listened to the melody of Blair's voice. It tugged at him, made him want to stick his tongue in Blair's mouth, to discover for himself if it tasted as sweet as the tones coming out of it sounded.

"I hate to break this gabfest up," Merrie said, "but I have two ten year olds who will be revved up and raring to go by six tomorrow morning."

"It's Saturday tomorrow," Dotty protested.

"That only means I won't have to get dressed before I start breakfast."

"Molly and Megan are great kids," Blair said. "You'll get a kick out of them when you meet them, Dotty."

They left the restaurant's lounge and got into Jim's truck. He took Dotty home first. As Jim walked her to the door, he could see Willa's face behind a sheer curtain in the front window.

"Aunt alert," Jim said.

"We might have made this whole thing worse by us going out again," Dotty warned.

"Nah. Sandburg said if they see us all together a couple of times it will stop being a big deal. He says it will fade away like any other seven day wonder."

"You think he's right? I mean, I'd like to believe it. The matchmakers backing off for a while sounds good to me."

"Blair's smart and he has a pretty good grasp of how people are going to act," Jim assured her.

"Well, good then. I need a friend and a break, not a big romance right now. Goodnight, Jim. Thanks again." She kissed his cheek. "That's for Aunt Willa."

When Jim got back into the truck, Merrie and Blair had switched places so that Blair was sitting next to Jim on the bench seat and Merrie was at the window. Jim casually draped his arm across the back of the seat and Blair snuggled into him.

Jim began to play with the ends of Blair's curls that brushed over his hand. At least somewhere, in front of some people, they could be themselves.

Blair laid his left hand on Jim's right thigh and began to trace patterns. It was like a flame ran from the tips of Blair's fingers to Jim's crotch and Jim didn't want him to stop.

Blair shot him a sly smile and continued to talk to Merrie as though he wasn't aware he was driving Jim crazy.

Little bastard. God, he loved him.

Four months in Pinecrest hadn't dulled Jim's appreciation of the barely conquered wilderness they lived in. The night was always inky black, the stars brilliant. He opened his window a few inches letting the cool richness of the forest scented air blow across his face.

This was exactly where he was meant to be, up close to the natural world, Blair beside him.

As he pulled the truck into their dirt driveway, him caught a faint whiff of something, well, not exactly wrong but definitely not right on the wind. Something sort of out of place.

His cell phone rang, distracting him before he had a chance to explore the smell further.

"Ellison," he said into the phone. He watched Blair and Merrie get out of the vehicle and Blair walk her to her car. He already missed the warmth of Blair's sturdy body next to him.

"Sheriff," Kathy Lucas, the dispatcher said, "there's been an accident out by the county reservoir."

"Anyone injured?"

"We're not sure yet. Some teenagers cruising around saw a car run off Line Road and burst into flames. I've already got an ambulance, fire truck and the deputy en route. They have a ten-minute ETA. I thought you'd want to know."

"Yeah, I better get out there. Give me a clear location."

As Jim listened to directions, Blair opened his door and stepped up on the doorframe. Blair turned so he was straddling Jim's lap and began to lick Jim's right ear.

Jim nearly moaned into the telephone. "Okay, Kathy, I copy that. Let them know I should be there in about twenty minutes. Tell them to hold the kids. I want to talk to them."

Jim barely had time to flip the phone closed before Blair poked his tongue into his mouth.

Damn, Blair's mouth did taste as sweet as it sounded. Blair placed his hands on either side of Jim's face and tilted Jim's head to get better access. Jim lifted his hips, encouraging Blair's erection against his belly.

After a few moments of intense necking, Blair broke away. "Who was on the phone?"

"Huh? Oh, shit. I've got to go, Chief. There was a car accident out near the reservoir."

"Anyone hurt?"

Jim smiled. Typical Blair. "Kathy didn't know yet." He kissed Blair softly. "Sorry, but you know, my vacation doesn't really start till noon tomorrow."

"Don't be sorry," Blair said on a dramatic sigh. "That's what happens when you get involved with a cop. Want me to come along?"

Jim did, but he knew this had been a long week for Blair. "Nah, why don't you go inside? You've got a million things to do before Simon and Connor get here and there isn't really anything for you to do at the accident anyway."

Blair kissed Jim. "You're sure? I don't mind going."

"I know. Next time, Chief."

"Be careful," Blair said as he reluctantly swung off Jim's lap and onto the ground.

"Sorry, Chief."

"I know. I'm disappointed but I'll live." He slammed the truck door shut. "I love you, Jim. Goodbye."

"Love you, too."

Jim watched Blair's reflection in the rear view mirror as he drove away. Blair stood in the dark, waving until Jim, even with his Sentinel sight, could no longer see him.

He had a hollow feeling in his chest, seeing Blair like that. As if this was a forever goodbye rather than a see you later goodbye.

As he turned off the reservation road onto the county highway, he laughed at himself. Everything was okay. Blair loved him, their vacation started tomorrow. He flipped on the siren and light on the dashboard and hurried to the accident.

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

The pain in Blair's head was at a roar as he opened his eyes. He was on the back seat of a fast moving car. He was positioned on his left side, hands tied behind his back, feet bound together. The smooth leather under his cheek was soothing to his headache.

As he lay in the darkness, he could hear two men talking in the front seat but the nauseating waves of agony were preventing him from stringing their words together to make sense. He swallowed hard against the gag in his mouth.

The last thing he remembered was waving goodbye to Jim. He struggled to stay awake, to understand what was being said.

Spanish, Blair realized. The two men were speaking Spanish. One had a familiar voice but the pounding at the back of his skull kept him from making a connection.

Jim. Blair shut his eyes and prayed that Jim was all right. Had they taken him, too?

The car hit a bump in the road, jostling Blair on the bench seat. A moan escaped from around the gag.

"I told you not to hurt him." The familiar voice was furious.

"Lo siento, Señor. I didn't mean to, but he fought hard."

"If you have truly injured him, you will pay with your life. I have told everyone that he is to be treated with care and respect. I will be glad to make an example of you if necessary."

"I am certain he is not greatly hurt, Señor." Blair could detect the raw fear in the second man's voice.

"Call Alvarez and find out if the truck has arrived."

For a few moments Blair could hear only quiet murmuring and the radio. Then the one Blair thought of as the henchman snapped the phone closed.

"The truck is nearly to Cascade. There should be plenty of time for it to be stored in the long term parking before Alvarez checks in and boards the flight."

"Bien." The small light over the passenger's seat was clicked on and Blair heard the rustling of a map. "Another few hours, perhaps, until we reach the airstrip."

"Sí, Señor."

Where the hell were they taking him and why? Blair dispelled his panic with a few calming breaths taken through the material knotted at his mouth. There wasn't anything he could do to free himself right now. He would bide his time. That was something he'd learned while being a ride along with Jim. Patience. There would come a moment of opportunity and he had to wait, watch and be ready to take advantage of it.

He tried to rest when the light was shut off. He tried to get as comfortable as he could between the cords that held him fast and his headache.

Oh, Jim, where are you? He was positive he would know if Jim were dead. In his mind he looked for that tie that Tommy Bear insisted bound a Guide to a Shaman. He breathed in slowly, remembering not the meditation techniques of his youth but those he'd learned from Tommy. Slow the heart, bring the air in deeply, feel the muscles go slack. Step back inside the mind. And release.

Jim was standing near a deputy cruiser, talking with two shaken teenagers. He was totally in cop mode, concerned and controlled.

Jim looked up suddenly, as though he knew Blair was there. As if he could see Blair as clearly as Blair could see him. Their blue eyes met in the rising dawn. Jim gave his head a disbelieving shake and returned to questioning the girls.

Thank you, God. Jim was okay and still at the accident scene. How many miles separated them? Blair wanted to reach back, to go to Jim again but he was exhausted from pain.

He slipped back into unconsciousness.

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

"Sheriff? Sheriff Ellison?" The teenage girl in front of him sounded frightened. "Sheriff, are you okay?"

Jim briefly shook his head to clear it. Christ, that was bizarre. He could have sworn Blair was standing just across the highway. His beautiful blue eyes met Jim's, the rising sun glinted off his dark hair. It had been so fucking real.

"Sheriff Ellison?"

"Sorry, girls. Listen, you two can go home now if you're up to driving. I've got your phone numbers and I'll call if I have any other questions. You girls did good tonight. Staying calm, calling in the accident."

One of the girls started to sob softly. "It wasn't enough, though. They're still dead."

"It wasn't your fault. It was an accident." Jim reached around in his memory for something Blair would have offered the girls for comfort. "It's okay to feel sad because someone died. It's natural to feel that way but you mustn't feel guilty. We just don't have that much control over the universe." He gauged the crying girl's comprehension. "Okay?"

She nodded and gave a wet sniff. "Yes, sir. You're right."

"Will you be okay to drive back or should I try and call your folks again?"

The calmer of the two was the driver and assured him she was fine to drive. Jim believed her and sent them on their way.

He rubbed at his eyes. God, he was tired. He'd already been here for hours and it looked like it would be hours before he could finish up. He selfishly wished he had taken Blair up on his offer to accompany him. Blair's presence would have gone a long way toward easing this damned headache.

The reasonable part of him was glad Blair was home asleep. The three as yet unidentified bodies in the car were charred and the stench was sickening. Even with his sense of smell dialed down to almost nothing, an occasional waft of burnt flesh reached him.

Blair. Seeing him so clearly just a few feet away had shaken Jim. What a weird hallucination. Probably a Sentinel fluke. Sandburg would no doubt have a test and a theory about it.

He was tempted to call Blair but, shit, it was only 5:30 in the morning. No reason to wake him. If Blair were awake, he would have called Jim already. No, let him sleep. Simon and Connor would be pulling in around noon. He hoped he was back by then.

Jim stretched and walked back to the ambulance. It would be at least another hour before the coroner from Lake Quincy arrived.

He looked across the highway again, half hoping, half afraid he'd see Blair again. Nothing.

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

He'd called the house once around eight and left a message. Blair not being home was no big deal. He could be at the school, at Tommy Bear's house, or running a couple of last minute errands. They would be gone for a week. No telling what Blair had to take care of.

Jim had tried Blair's cell phone but it had been switched off. Nothing new there, either. No, nothing unusual about Blair forgetting his cell or having it turned off if he was with Tommy or someone from the tribe. Nothing to indicate a problem at all.

So why the growing apprehension?

He absently scratched at a mosquito bite on the back of his neck. This night had been a complete bitch. Still no ID on the bodies and not much left of the car. The fire department wouldn't rule it an accident at this point. Just lots of standing around and waiting.

It was almost noon when Jim pulled up to the house. Simon and Connor sat on the front porch steps. Blair's truck was not in the driveway.

Jim jumped out of the truck and hurried toward them. "Simon, Connor." He shook Simon's hand and then Connor's. "I got held up at work. How long have you been waiting?"

"About an hour," Simon answered. "Connor was anxious to get her vacation started so we left Cascade way too early."

Jim unlocked the front door and ushered them in. "Sandburg wasn't home when you got here?"

"No," Connor said, pushing passed Jim into the living room. "Cute house."

"Thanks," Jim said. "It comes with Blair's job."

"Where is Sandy, Jim?" Connor asked.

"I'm not sure. I've been at an accident scene since around one o'clock this morning. I tried to call him earlier and didn't get an answer." He went into the kitchen and started coffee. "Have you eaten yet? We've got homemade pumpkin bread."

"Sounds good," Simon said. "We looked into the windows at the school. Sandburg's got a sweet set up here."

"Yeah," Jim agreed. "He deserves it. The last year he was in Cascade was pretty rough on him."

"He likes being a teacher?" Connor said, sitting down on a kitchen chair. "I really thought Sandy would have made a terrific police officer."

"He would have," Jim said as he sliced the last loaf of pumpkin bread and put it on plates. "This life has been tremendous for him, though. He runs the show at the school and, well, I told you before how active he is in the community."

"What about you?" Simon asked.

"Me?"

"Yeah, how do you like it out here in BF Egypt?"

Jim laughed as he handed mugs of coffee to Simon and Connor. "This place is just what I needed, Simon. It's different. More community style policing than I did in Cascade but it's good. I really like it."

"What is community policing?" Connor asked.

"We've got a whole vacation to talk about work, Connor," Jim said with a smile. "Right now I'd like to grab a shower. Sandburg should be wandering back anytime now." He took an old fashioned skeleton key off a hook in the kitchen and placed it on the counter. "If you want to take a good look around Blair's school, here's the key."

"Sandy won't mind?" Connor said.

"Sandburg will be thrilled. The winning projects for the County Science Fair are on the table at the entryway. The winning essays for the Write America Contest are hanging on the bulletin board. This is the first year any of the kids from the rez won. You're going to hear about them all week so you might as well get a look."

"He's done well here for himself," Connor said.

"Yeah," Jim said as he started for the bedroom. "This place has been good for both of us."

When he shut the bedroom door and began to undress, he smelled it again. That not quite right smell. It was vaguely familiar but here, in their house, it was out of place.

He showered and shaved in the small bathroom off the master bedroom. As he reached to hang up his toothbrush, the distant anxiety that had been nagging for hours slammed full force into him.

His toothbrush hung alone in the holder.

He pulled the shower curtain back open. No herbal shampoos or conditioners lined the back of the tub.

Jim wrapped a towel around his waist and went back into the bedroom. He flung the closet door open, uncaring of the loud crash it made as it hit the opposite wall.

Goddamn it.

Most of Sandburg's shirts and pants and shoes were missing.

He slid the drawer open on the armoire. Sandburg's underwear and socks were gone.

The top shelf of Blair's bookshelf was empty. All his favorite and treasured books, including The Sentinels of Paraguay, no longer stood there.

Jim got on his hands and knees and lifted the edge of the bedspread to peer underneath. Blair's box that held the notes and computer discs and the actual printed version of the dissertation were gone.

He sat cross-legged on the cool wooden floor as the full implication of all of this hit him.   
That fucking bastard had done it to him again.

This time, though, he'd enticed Jim away from Cascade and everything that was familiar so he could dump Jim all alone in some backwater town. Fucking perfect.

Blair's timing couldn't have been better. Simon and Connor would be here to enjoy the show. Damn him.

Yeah, Blair had run once leaving Jim holding the bag but, Jesus, then everyone had understood. The dissertation, the public humiliation, everything falling apart for Blair, the people they knew empathized. After the initial shock, even Jim could see why Blair had left.

Then, Blair had been running to something. This time he was running from something. Or should he say someone.

Jim got off the floor and dressed. It was as though two people were fighting for control inside him. One, the cool detached Jim of old. The Jim who existed before Blair burst in and turned his personal life upside down. This part allowed him to function right now.

The other side of him was the scorned lover, the hurt child. It scorched inside him, crying out in pain.

Fuck you, Blair.

As the child raged within him, Jim grabbed at the pendant around his neck. With a furious yank, he broke the chain that held it and hurled the jade symbol of Blair's supposed love for him against the wall. His highly developed hearing allowed him to enjoy the shattering of the small stone, the tinkling of the tiny green pieces raining to the floor, the golden slither of the chain as it snaked down the wall.

Fuck you, Blair.

He loved Blair more than he'd thought it was possible to love anyone. He had believed Blair when he'd said they had forever. Jim had trusted the little bastard.

I'd never leave you, Jim.

Jim jerked his head up, looking about the room. No one.

I'd never leave you, Jim.

Fucking A. He was losing his mind. First seeing Blair at the accident, now hearing his voice.

He could smell him, too. Not just the scent of Blair from the house, the sheets, the day to day living in this building but a fresh scent of Blair, as if he were standing close to Jim.

"Blair?" Jim said hesitantly. Simon and Connor must have gone to the school while he was in the shower because he could detect no one else in the house. He was alone, he knew that.

I'd never leave you, Jim.

Christ, it sounded as clear as Blair whispering it to him. He could almost feel Blair's breath tickling his ear. Then it was gone.

"Blair?" Nothing.

He had to think, had to quiet the child in him and let that detached side of him look at the evidence and come up with a better conclusion.

The last time Blair had left him, there'd been good reason. His life had been coming apart at the seams and Jim, the one person he'd depended on, had let him down. Blair had felt he had no choice. He'd gone to make a new life for himself. The two of them had talked this thing from every angle possible over the last four months. Blair had needed to purge himself and Jim had needed reassurance.

Blair loved it here. Their lives were good. Blair had the school. He was studying to become a true Shaman. Blair had responsibilities here; there were six weeks of class left after spring break and Blair wouldn't leave the tribe high and dry.

If Blair didn't teach, then the house would go back to the tribe. Blair would have at least left a note so that Jim could find a different place to live.

The most convincing piece of evidence against Blair having left voluntarily was the missing carton from underneath the bed. Blair would never have taken the Sentinel research with him. Even if the Guide had moved on, he would not have left the Sentinel without the handbook on how to manage his senses.

Jim had learned the hard and painful way that Blair wasn't the flaky flower child he'd first thought him. No, Blair was serious and caring so there had to be more to all of this.

He slowly dialed up his senses and started to search their home as if it were the crime scene he now believed it to be.

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

A blindfold was slipped over his eyes before full sunlight. The gentle way his captor tied it, making sure none of his long hair was caught, chilled Blair. Once the blindfold was in place, the man had run his finger over Blair's jaw and whispered "Hermoso" before leaving him on the car seat again.

When Blair woke up later, he could feel the heat of the sun pouring into through the car window. Jim must be home by now and probably freaking out. He had to reach him.

Okay, slow the breathing. Look for the cord that bound them. Slow the heartbeat. Step back. Release.

Jim was frantically searching their bedroom. His intense panic made holding onto the line between them difficult.

Oh, God, Jim thought he'd left him.

I'd never leave you, Jim, Blair called out.

Jim glanced around the room. Good. Jim could hear him.

Blair tried again. I'd never leave you, Jim.

"Blair?" Jim said. Jim looked so hopeful and so frightened it broke Blair's heart.

I'd never leave you, Jim.

Jim was calmer now, curious. Excellent. The connection was stronger now, easier to hold. Maybe he could explain what was happening if he did it quickly.

Blair's concentration was broken when the car door opened and he was pulled into a sitting position. The connection snapped back like a rubber band pulled too taunt. Oh, Jim.

"Blair," the softly accented voice said, "I am going to give you something to help you relax. Don't be afraid. I will never hurt you."

The sharp odor of rubbing alcohol filled the car. His upper left arm was swabbed and the cold heat of a needle slid into his flesh.

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

The three of them sat at the kitchen table, finishing off a pot of coffee, the week of camping forgotten. Jim sighed. He'd have to try again to explain how he knew Sandburg hadn't left of his own free will when everything pointed to him having packed up and split. Connor seemed ready to believe him. Simon wasn't.

"Jim," Simon began, "the kid has taken off before."

"I know, Simon, but it's different this time."

"Yeah," the disgusted reply came, "this time he went running off after a piece of tail."

Jim reread the emails Connor had found on the floor of the spare bedroom. He shook his head. "No, I don't believe it. This thing between Sandburg and Maya was over a long time ago."

"Jim, you and I both know he was crazy about that girl."

Ouch. Jim hadn't expected such an obvious revelation to zing his heart like that. He had to admit not only had Blair been in love with Maya but he had also hidden her attempts to contact him.

"That was almost two years ago," Jim insisted.

"Who is Maya?" Connor asked.

"Long, ugly story," Jim said. He let Simon give Connor a condensed version of Blair's love affair with Maya while he called Tommy Bear's number. No answer. Damn it. He knew every minute that passed was another mile Blair was traveling away from him.

"Jim," Connor said when he sat back at the table, "the emails say that Sandy just broke up with someone. Maybe that was enough to send him to Mexico City to try again with this woman."

"Sandburg did not just break up with someone."

"You don't know that for sure," Simon protested. "You don't know everything that's going on in the kid's private life."

"I know who he's sleeping with," Jim said with quiet certainty.

Connor nodded as though Jim was merely confirming her suspicions. Simon looked puzzled.

"The kid's love life is legendary, Jim. A disaster area a lot of the time, but legendary. Who knows all the girls he might have been seeing."

"I do," Jim answered.

"You're his roommate, not his keeper," Simon said.

"We're more than roommates." Jim had not wanted to tell them without Blair by his side. Right now, though, it was more important to have Simon and Connor understand and support him than it was to protect Blair's privacy. "We're together, Simon. Blair and I are together."

"Together?"

"We're lovers," Jim blurted out. "I know who Blair is sleeping with because he's sleeping with me."

"Ah," Connor said, a half smile on her lips. "I thought as much."

"What?" Simon was shocked. "Well, I never thought as much. How long, Jim? How damn long have you and the kid been 'together'?"

Simon's reaction was like a slap. The distaste was clear on his friend's face.

"He's not a kid, Simon. Blair is thirty years old. We admitted our, well, attraction to one and other when I came to visit him before Christmas."

"That's why you moved here," Connor said.

"Yeah," Jim nodded. "Blair couldn't live in Cascade anymore and I couldn't be there without him."

Jim watched as Simon struggled to come to some kind of an understanding. "Is this some kind of a Sentinel thing, Jim?"

Jim flinched. Although Blair had explained how Connor had come to know about his heightened senses, it still bothered him to hear Simon talk about it so casually in front of her.

"No, sir, it's not." Jim's voice was cold but he couldn't help it. He was glad Blair hadn't seen Simon's initial reaction to the news that they were in a relationship. It would have hurt him to witness Simon's intolerance.

"Then what?" Simon said.

"We love each other," Jim said. He couldn't believe how good it felt to say it out loud, to share it with someone besides Blair. "We have for a long time. If that offends you, Simon, that's too bad. Your friendship is important to me. Very important but nothing is more important than Blair. I know he wouldn't just leave me. There had to be extenuating circumstances. I've got to find him.

"Now," Jim continued, "I'd like you two to help me but if you don't want to or just won't, I'll understand. Just stay out of my way."

There was a tense silence then Simon reached out to squeeze Jim's shoulder. "Of course we're going to help you find Blair. Your news just, uh, caught me off guard. That's all."

"We'll find him," Connor assured Jim.

"Thanks." Jim felt a brief surge of relief. They might not approve of the lifestyle that he and Blair had chosen, they might not even believe that Blair hadn't just hit the road, but they would help him.

Thank God.

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

When he awoke, dizzy and vaguely sick to his stomach, Blair knew he was no longer in a car. He was untied, ungagged, unblindfolded. Still in the clothes he'd worn, when, last night? Two nights ago? He was on top of a bed with a light comforter tucked around him.

The air was cool and dry. Air conditioner? The room was dim, a single lamp burning at the bedside. A man sat in a high-backed chair, reading.

He noticed Blair stirring.

"You are awake. I will tell the jefe."

"Wait," Blair croaked. His throat was incredibly dry. Cottonmouth was probably a side effect of whatever he'd been injected with. The nausea and heaviness in his limbs probably was, too.

"Rest another moment, Señor Sandburg."

"Who are you? Where are we?"

"I am Carlos, Señor. I will tell him you are no longer asleep. He will explain everything to you." With that, the man hurried out the door.

Blair settled back against the pillows. There was no reason to get up, to try to flee. Besides, he wasn't sure he could.

A few moments later the door open and a different man came into the bedroom. He sat next to Blair on the edge of the bed. The light illuminated him from behind, keeping his face in shadow.

"I was worried you had been given too much of the drug, Blair. You have been sleeping much longer than I had anticipated. You are all right?" His voice, that familiar voice from the car, was soft with concern.

"I," Blair cleared his throat. "I think I'm okay. Kind of groggy and the back of my head hurts but other than that, I'm fine."

"I apologize for your discomfort. My men were under strict orders not to harm you. It will not happen again."

"Could I have something to drink?" Blair thought he might throw up.

"Of course," the man answered. As he turned to pick up the water that waited on the bedside table, the light from the lamp shone across his face.

"Francisco Rivero?" Blair nearly choked.

"Yes, Blair, it's me." He helped Blair to take a few sips of water and then settle back onto the pillows.

"Why?" Blair said. This son of a bitch had tried to kill him once before. "Why did you bring me here? Where ever here is."

"Calm yourself, querido. I brought you here because this is where you belong. With me." Francisco traced Blair's cheekbones with his fingertips. "Don't be afraid, Blair. I told you, I will let no harm come to you." He smoothed the back of hand against Blair's lips. "You don't know how hard it has been to be without you. How long I've waited for this. Waited for you."

Francisco leaned over to press his mouth against Blair's. Blair stilled beneath him, unsure of Francisco's motives or what part he was supposed to play in all this. When Francisco tried to push his tongue into Blair's mouth, Blair turned his head.

Francisco pulled back, a look of angry dismay on his handsome face. "Why do you refuse me a simple kiss, Blair? I dreamed of this for two years and you push me away? Dios."

In that second, Blair was offered a glimpse of the insanity that lurked just below Francisco's veneer of sophistication. Shit. Okay, keep him calm, keep him happy, bide your time. It was a lesson that had kept him alive many times.

"Francisco, I wasn't trying to push you away. It's just, well, I need to clean up first."

"Oh, of course." Francisco seemed pathetically eager to accept Blair's explanation. He helped Blair to sit up. "Our bath is through the double doors. Do you need assistance bathing?"

"No, just give me a chance to get my bearings." The last thing he wanted was Francisco in the bath with him. Blair stood and leaned against one of the tall bedposts until his legs were steady.

Francisco flipped on an overhead light and slid open the closet door. "You see, Blair? Your things are here. I will buy you more clothing later, naturally, but I wanted you to be surrounded by the familiar at the beginning."

Blair's clothing hung in the closet next to what he assumed were Francisco's things. "I don't know what to say, Francisco. Thank you for your consideration."

"This is your home now, querido. I want to provide you with every comfort. You need only ask."

"Uh, thanks. I'd like to shower now."

"If you need anything, you only have to ask." With that Francisco left the bedroom locking the door behind him.

Blair sat on the edge of the tub. He knew he didn't have much time. Maybe a shower would clear his head.

He pushed himself up and stepped into the tub. His brand of shampoo and conditioner were in the rack hanging from the faucet. Not just his brand, he realized as he lifted up the half-empty bottle, but his shampoo. The actual bottle from home. Shit.

After Blair showered he put on dress pants and a button down shirt. His head was a little clearer but his body still felt like he was walking underwater. He desperately wanted to connect with Jim again but decided to wait. Francisco would be back soon. Maybe over dinner he'd be able to learn something useful to tell Jim.

He quietly tried the knob on the bedroom door. Locked. He wandered through the huge suite. The windows that lined two walls were locked from the outside. He was definitely a prisoner but why? What could Francisco possibly want from him? He'd already escaped from the Feds. What could the advantage of having Blair as a hostage be?  
.  
The bookcase in the corner held some of Blair's books on the upper shelf. Blair's hairbrush lay on top of the chest-of-drawers and his backpack leaned against it. Why? Why had Francisco kidnapped him and then gone to so much trouble to make him comfortable? That kiss, calling him darling in Spanish, it just didn't make sense.

A sharp knock on the door was followed by the scrape of a key in the lock. "Señor Sandburg?"

"Come in," Blair said. The man who had waited at his bedside appeared.

"Señor Sandburg?" he said in English. "Dinner is ready. Señor Rivero is downstairs."

Blair knew it was better to cooperate. "Thank you." Blair followed Carlos through a long hallway, down an open stairway and through French doors to a glassed-in patio. The house was amazing. Despite the gravity of his situation, Blair wished he had time to examine the artifacts and art that decorated it.

He had a sinking feeling he might have the rest of his life, however long that ended up being, to study it all. Hopefully, his dinner conversation with Francisco would start to clarify Blair's place in this farce.

Blair froze at the threshold. Night had fallen. Cream colored lacy curtains fluttered in a cool breeze scented in mountain and sea. Candles lined the perimeter of the room, their flames flickering. In the center of patio, stood a small table elegantly set for two.

Oh, fuck. He totally understood this now.

He was being romanced.

What the hell was going on? Francisco had kidnapped him before in Cascade. Then, Blair had been tied up in the engine room of Francisco's yacht. He had been told he'd be dead before it was all over. Luckily, Maya had come to her senses and Jim had come to the rescue before Francisco had been able to carry out his threats. So why this seduction scene now?

"Blair." Francisco came from behind him and placed his hand at the small of Blair's back, propelling him into the room. Blair schooled his features into a welcoming smile. He had to tread carefully here.

"Francisco."

"Sit. I'll have dinner served."

"Great. I'm starving." Blair sat across from Francisco at the small table. The fine crystal and china gleamed in the candlelight.

They were both silent as a servant poured wine and brought out their first course. Blair took a few bites of his salad then looked up as he felt the weight of Francisco's gaze on him. "What?" Blair said.

"I'm just thinking how wonderful it is to be here. You can't imagine how prison was, Blair."

Blair laid his fork down, giving Francisco his undivided attention. "No. No, I guess I can't. It must have been terrible." That's it, keep him talking, Sandburg.

"Terrible," Francisco agreed. "Cut off from what I knew. Made to live with men who were little more than animals. A regimented life filled with filth and boredom." His hand shook at he raised his wineglass to his lips.

"If," Blair said, hoping Francisco wouldn't remember Blair's own part in his arrest and conviction, "if, it's upsetting you, man, we don't have to talk about it."

Francisco smiled at him. "No, querido, I want to talk about it. The hardest part of all it was being separated from you."

"Excuse me?" Blair sputtered.

"Oh, Blair, you must know how difficult it was. From the first moment you and I met, we both understood there was so much between us." Francisco briefly shut his eyes. "When I saw you in the courtroom, when you testified against me. Dios, Blair."

Pacify him, quick. "I had no choice, Francisco. You know that, right?"

"I do. At the time, it almost destroyed me but as I thought about it over the next two years, I realized you did what you had to do."

"Absolutely." Blair leaned back as the servant took away their salad plates and placed their entrees in front of them. Blair needed to steer this conversation to something a little safer and a little more informative. He pushed his food around, fear filling his belly and stealing away his hunger. He had to think, had to stay calm.

"Your home is magnificent, Francisco."

"Thank you. My grandfather had it built as a sort of retreat for our family."

"We're near the mountains, right? I mean it's dark but I can kind of see the outline of them."

"Yes, we're near the Andes." Francisco smiled at Blair. "This house is usually empty except for servants. I have a house in Santiago near the Universidad de Chile where I stay most of the time." He watched Blair as if to gauge his reaction. "That is how I happened to become reacquainted with Maya. She was a university student."

"Oh."

"You still have feelings for her, Blair?"

"No. I'm not sure I really ever did."

"I'm glad. She was not worthy of you." Blair kept silent and Francisco continued. "You and I will move to Santiago soon. You could attend the university there, enter the doctoral program if you wished. I know you will want to keep busy."

"Yeah, I will."

"If you are not ready to go back to school, there are many things to see in Santiago; museums, galleries, temples. We're not so far from the Andes there that you could not study some of the mountain tribes. I know you enjoy research of primitives." Francisco reached across the table to cover Blair's hand with his own. "And when my business permits, we can travel. Europe, Asia, Africa, we can see anything you want. You won't regret you are with me, Blair. I promise you."

"I'm speechless," Blair said, squashing the desire to snatch his hand back. "You've really thought this all through."

"What else did I have to do with my time? For the two years I waited for my escape, I dreamed of you and our future."

"Oh." Blair wondered who had watched him for Francisco all that time. Francisco knew way too much about him. He even seemed to have a good grasp of what was important to Blair. It was totally weird.

"You're not eating, querido. You don't like it?"

"No, it's delicious. I guess I'm still pretty out of it."

"Then, by all means, let's retire for the night."

Shit. After two years of obsessing, Blair was damn sure Francisco would want to do more than sleep. "Francisco, look, I...I'm not really..."

Francisco got up and went to crouch next to Blair's chair. "Blair, I'm a patient man. I've waited years. I can wait a few more nights until you are ready, okay?"

Blair nodded. Jesus, Francisco was treating him like he was a timid bride. Well, okay, then. If it bought him a little more time, he could do timid bride.

"I really appreciate that, Francisco."

Francisco stood, then bent down and softly kissed Blair's mouth. "I do ask that you let me sleep beside you while you are adjusting, Blair."

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

Jim hated the pitying looks Simon kept throwing him. An hour after Jim had delivered his big coming out speech, Connor had gone online and discovered an airline ticket to Mexico City had been purchased with Blair's credit card. The flight had left early that morning. Rafe and Brown checked the Cascade airport and not only had Blair boarded the flight, his truck was sitting in long term parking there.

Now Simon was only going through the motions, pretending that he didn't believe Sandburg had dumped Jim. Connor still had faith in Blair. Jim wasn't quite sure what he felt except afraid.

Jim paced the length of the living room, ready to explode. He should have followed his gut last night and taken Blair up on his offer to ride along. He should have listened to that vaguely annoying something that called to him as he'd watched Blair's reflection disappear from his rear view mirror.

At five o'clock the front door burst open and Merrie and Dotty charged in, dragging Tommy Bear in with them.

"Sorry it took so long," Merrie said, hugging Jim tightly. "Dotty and I have been looking for Tommy since you called."

Jim hugged her then stepped back. "Thank you, Ladies."

Dotty asked, "Have you heard anything yet?"

"We found out he bought a ticket to Mexico City and left on a flight headed there this morning," Connor said.

Jim quickly introduced everyone.

"Well," Merrie said, "there has to be a logical explanation." She heard Simon's snort of disbelief. She looked up at him defiantly. "His life is here. He'd never just leave."

"Tommy," Jim said. "Can I talk to you outside?"

Tommy nodded and followed Jim out to the front porch. The two men sat down on the top step.

"I don't know how to say this, Tommy, so if I do it wrong, please don't be offended." Jim swallowed hard. "Do you understand what Blair and I are to each other?"

"Sentinel and Shaman. Best friends."

"Yeah, all that but do you know everything we are to each other?"

Matter of factly, Tommy said, "You are halves of a whole, both spiritual and physically."

"Yeah." Jim put his head in his hands. Christ, he was tired. He'd been awake since early Friday and he and Blair hadn't slept much Thursday night. Was it really less than forty-eight hours ago he'd been foolish enough to think life was going to cut him a little slack? That his future with Blair was secure?

Tommy patted Jim's back. "The bond between you and Blair is solid and necessary for both of you."

Jim lifted his head to look in Tommy's calm, dark eyes. "That's what I think, too." He dropped his gaze to the patch of grass beneath his boots. "I know everything points to Blair having headed out but I don't believe it."

"Good. You should believe in him."

"Well, I do but not for the right reasons. It's not because I trusted him or had faith in him. I really thought he ran away." His voice dropped to a near whisper. "Until he told me he hadn't. I think I heard him tell me this morning that he wouldn't do that."

"Maybe you did hear him."

"The other night Blair told me you said that he and I were joined, that he and I could have some kind of spiritual flying experience together. I'm not much of a follower of the mystical, Tommy. I still have trouble believing I'm a Sentinel and I have evidence of that every damn minute of my life."

"What happened, Jim?"

"Last night, while I was out on a call, I thought I saw Blair standing across the street from me."

"Was he clear?"

"Very clear. And, I don't know, solid I guess is what I mean. The sun was rising and could see it shining on him. He cast a shadow. It wasn't like he was a ghost or a mirage. I felt like he could see me as well as I could see him."

Tommy nodded. "Spirit walking."

"Well, I thought I was hallucinating."

"That's a natural reaction, Jim."

"So, you think he was trying to contact me?"

"Most likely. Did he say anything?"

"Not that time."

"There was another time?" Tommy sounded impressed.

"This morning when I first realized he was gone. I was acting a little crazy, searching the bedroom to see what was missing, thinking he'd left me high and dry and then..."

"Then what?"

"Tommy, it sounds so stupid when I say it out loud."

"Not to me," Tommy assured him.

"Okay, I heard him say 'I'd never leave you, Jim.' I swear to God it was like he was right beside me. He said it three times. Once I thought, well, it was as if he were whispering in my ear. I could actually feel his breath on my skin. I could, er, smell him."

"You are a Sentinel," Tommy said by way of explanation.

"And?"

"Jim, you are connected very firmly to Blair. He will be a very powerful Shaman one day. He is only now beginning to tap into his strength."

"He really was trying to contact me," Jim marveled. He wasn't losing his mind and his faith in Blair wasn't misplaced.

"It sounds to me like he did contact you, Jim."

"What can I do?"

"Blair is the one training to spirit walk so he'll have to come to you. What you can do is keep your mind and heart open to him. Listen when he speaks, look when he appears. He may not be practiced enough to hold the connection for long so don't let your fear or disbelief make it any more difficult for him."

"Okay." Jim let out a bark of humorless laughter. "I never thought I'd be the one going to a Shaman for advice."

"Normally, you wouldn't have to. You have one who watches out for you every day."

"Yes, I do." Jim stood up and looked at the rising hills around them. "I hate just sitting here doing nothing to help."

"Then do whatever you think you should be doing as a police officer. Your link with Blair has nothing to do with geography. You are connected on a spiritual plane. He will come to you no matter where you are."

"If he can," Jim sighed. "Thank you, Tommy. I really appreciate you talking to me and explaining this stuff."

Tommy stood beside Jim. "Jim, I haven't told you anything that you couldn't have learned from Blair."

"I know. He said he had wanted to share more of his Shamanic teaching with me but he was worried I wouldn't believe him or that I would mock him."

"Would you?"

"Honestly? Maybe."

"It's hard for you to believe in anything outside what your senses tell you."

"Yes, it is."

"Jim," Tommy said his tone serious, "you must believe. The only way to have this work is for you to put aside your fears and believe."

Jim nodded. "I'll try."

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

The rustle of the sheets, the tilting then righting of the mattress woke him. A quiet "shh" relaxed him back into a half-sleep.

A callused hand trailed down his torso, stopping to gently tangle in his chest hair and lightly pull at his hardening nipples.

A puff of air floated over his tightening abdomen seconds before the familiar abrading of beard stubble rubbed against his belly. He spread his legs, allowing his lover to climb between them.

"Mmmmm," he hummed, as talented hands cupped his balls and burgeoning erection.

A moist lick ran the length of his cock and Blair lifted his hips in a wordless plea for more.

He wanted to tell Jim about the weird dream he'd had but just then his cock was engulfed in hot, wet suction and his only thought was to enjoy this gift of ecstasy being given him.

At first, Jim nuzzled slowly up and down Blair's cock, his tongue painting abstract patterns on the underside of it. He kept one hand against Blair's belly, effectively pinning him to the bed. With his other hand, he was driving Blair crazy, stroking his balls, squeezing his ass, and teasing the entrance into his body.

"God," Blair moaned, "unbelievable."

The bobbing became more forceful, sucking with greater strength and speed. The hand was removed from his belly and Blair thrust up to meet his lover.

Blair wanted this to last, to take his time enjoying the heat and the wet pull of Jim's mouth but when a slick finger pressed into his rectum to explore and began to move in a rhythm matching the mouth devouring him, he could not hold back. With a loud cry of "Yes," Blair splashed his orgasm into the suckling orifice.

Without removing his finger from inside Blair, Jim knelt upright between Blair's thighs. Blair could hear the sound of flesh pulling flesh as Jim masturbated. A moment later, the hot spurt of Jim's come hit Blair's chest.

The finger was carefully withdrawn from Blair's body and the larger man gathered him close. Blair could smell the salty musk of his own seed on Jim's breath as his lover whispered "Querido" before kissing him.

Oh fuck.

Not Jim. Francisco.

He wanted to puke. He wanted to scream. Instead, he pretended to quickly fall asleep in Francisco's arms.

He laid still, his mind racing. Francisco had sent Blair to bed before him, claiming he had a few things to take care of before he could retire. When Blair had gone up to the suite, Francisco had given his word that nothing would happen that Blair wasn't ready for and he was instructed to wear nothing in their bed.

Blair must have fallen asleep almost immediately.

Then this happened. He tried breathing in slowly through his nose to push the nausea down. Francisco was wrapped around him, Francisco's semen was drying on his body. He heard Francisco murmur "Hermoso" against his hair. Beautiful.

He didn't feel beautiful. He felt like an adulterer.

He was terrified. He knew how much danger he was in. Right now, Francisco was willing to treat Blair as a treasured lover. All that could change in an instant. The minute Francisco decided that Blair wasn't the perfect idealization of a man that he'd built up in his mind over the last two years, Blair was dead.

Blair wanted to spirit walk, to try to go to Jim, but he hesitated. Could he really connect to Jim now while his dick was still moist from being in another man's mouth? Could he talk to Jim while Francisco was spooned around him?

Remorse flooded him. God, not only had he been a willing participant in that little scene with Francisco, but he'd liked it. Loved it. His cock was still semi-erect.

Sex and guilt had never been two sides of a coin in Blair's mind. Naomi had made sure of that. But now, well, he'd never been more weighed down with guilt in his life.

Ah, Jim, what did we do to piss Fate off so much? Swallowing his grief and hurt, Blair tried to go back to sleep.

Tomorrow, when he was clean and alone and had time to put this all in perspective, he'd try to connect to Jim again.

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

"Jim," Simon called as Jim walked back in from the porch, "what do you want to do next?"

Jim rolled his shoulders, trying to relieve the pressure of taunt, aching muscles. "It rained like a bitch for a couple of hours this morning so I'm not going to be able to pick much up outside. Looking through the house this morning didn't get me very far either." He began to pace in front of the sofa. "I'm heading down to Mexico City. I don't believe for a minute that Sandburg is down there for a rendezvous with Maya but it's the only lead there is."

"I'll come with you," Simon said.

"Actually, Simon, I was hoping you'd stay at the house. I need someone here in case Blair tries to call. The house phone can be forwarded to this cell," Jim said, taking a phone from the top of the television. "That way, you're not trapped at the house. You can still do a little fishing or whatever. My plan was to be able to be contacted for anything the deputies couldn't handle for this week. I was thinking maybe you'd be willing to do that. Give community policing a try." He offered Simon what he hoped was a confident smile.

Simon gave Jim a weak grin in return. "I'll do whatever I can to help, Jim. You know that."

"I can help you, Simon," Dotty said. "I'll introduce you around. I can show you around town, whatever you need."

"I appreciate that, Dotty," Jim said. Simon nodded his thanks.

"What about me, Jim?" Connor asked. "I want to help find Sandy."

"How's your Spanish, Connor?"

"Muy bueno," Connor said with a smile.

"Really?"

"Really."

Merrie placed her hand on Jim's sleeve. "What can I do, Jim?"

"Help me keep everything kind of low key. I'd like to know if anyone saw something unusual but I don't want to start a panic. I don't want things to be awkward for Blair when he comes back."

"The town might be kept in the dark," Merrie answered, "but do you really think the rez won't know a Shaman has gone missing?"

"Mystical forces?" Jim asked.

"Power balances," Merrie agreed. "Just find him and get back here before school starts and no one will think anything of it."

"If we can't make it back in time, what about school?"

"I'll get a sub in to help me. Blair has lesson plans till the end of the school year. It doesn't matter, though, because you'll be back in plenty of time."

Jim pulled his wallet from his back pocket and slipped out a credit card. "Connor," he said, handing her his VISA, "get us on the first flight you can while I pack."

They flew out of Cascade at two am.

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

The jaguar was frantic and alone. Sniffing at the air then using the strength of his superior vision and hearing, the jaguar ran through the dark jungle, calling for the wolf.

From his vantage point on the hill, the wolf watched the jaguar knowing he was going further from the wolf with every step. Although his heart ached to call out, the wolf remained silent.

Shame locked wolf's voice in his throat. Wolf had awakened surrounded by the warm body of Coyote. He had allowed himself to be seduced.

The jaguar cried out again. The wolf couldn't bear the jaguar's pain. He surged to his feet, ready to make his presence known.

"Don't do it," Coyote murmured into his ear. "Don't."

"No," wolf said, moving away from Coyote.

"He'll hate you for what you've done."

"Maybe," wolf conceded, "but he deserves to know I'm safe. My shame, my regrets, shouldn't keep him from the truth."

Coyote blocked wolf's path. "You could bring danger to him." Coyote put his muzzle next to wolf's. "You could bring him toward his death."

Wolf smelled his own essence on Coyote's breath and hesitated.

In his moment of indecision, the jaguar disappeared.

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

They were seated near the tail of the plane, both a little too tall to be very comfortable. They shifted in silence for a while, Connor dozing. Jim put his face against the window, the cold glass soothing his pounding headache.

He should have drunk a cup of one of Sandburg's herbal teas before they'd left the rez for Cascade. In spite of Jim's protests every time Blair pushed one of his natural remedies off on him, they always seemed to do the trick.

"Jim," Connor said, "what was that back there about Blair being a Shaman? Is he?"

"He's studying to be. He'll enjoy giving you all the details when we find him." Jim closed his eyes as a not too subtle sign that he didn't want to talk.

That's when it hit Jim.

Blair was a Shaman.

Maybe he had been all along. He'd all ready fulfilled so many of the things he'd told Jim were components of being a Shaman.

Blair was a medicine man, a physical healer. Not long after he met Blair, the kid had brewed up a couple of concoctions to cure Jim's cold. Jim had scoffed at the time and had endangered both of their lives by taking an over the counter medication instead.

Eventually, begrudgingly, Jim had let Blair use natural remedies on him. Even before Blair had begun to study with Tommy, Blair had been a medicine man in Pinecrest. Tina Stephenz had told Jim about an herbal cream Blair had made up for her mother's arthritis the first day Jim hit town.

Blair was a spiritual healer and a counselor. As a grad student, he'd saved Jim's sanity when he found Jim. He'd coddled, lectured, tested, baited and pushed until Jim had a handle on his senses.

He had saved Joel Taggart's career when he'd restored the older man's confidence with a mixture of half-truths and total faith. He'd even helped Merrie find her way back to school so she would be able teach on the rez someday. Jim would never know how many students at the university Blair had been a sounding board for.

Blair was a peacemaker. He'd nagged and pulled and pouted until Jim once again had a relationship, albeit fragile, with his father, William, and his brother, Steven.

When Daryl Banks decided he wanted to go to the Police Academy rather than college, it was Blair who helped father and son find a way to communicate with each other. He'd always been the first to welcome new people into the department. Jim remembered briefly his own hostility toward Cassie Wells and Connor and Blair's intervention between them.

In Pinecrest, Blair had all ready helped strengthen relations between the town and the rez.

Blair was a teacher. That was obvious but it was subtle as well. How many times had Blair stood before a class full of college kids or elementary children or a room full of adult education students? How many hours had he spent tutoring? Jim couldn't even begin to count. But Blair's teaching was more than time spent on lesson plans and paper grading, although there had been plenty of that.

His whole life was about sharing knowledge. Blair often spouted off about this subject or that, making an ordinary experience a learning one. While it might irritate Jim on occasion, it never bored him and he had to admit, he'd garnered a lot from Sandburg's impromptu lectures.

And Blair taught by example. He lived his life trying to respect others' beliefs and decisions and life styles. He tried to be helpful. No matter what kind of bullshit the universe threw at him, Blair still retained a kind of innocence and wonderment when he looked out on the world.

Not that his lover was perfect. Not by a fucking long shot but it wasn't about perfection. This was about fulfilling the obligations of a Shaman.

Jim had watched Blair perform his hocus pocus for years but had never once appreciated it for what it was. He knew Blair better than anyone else in the world. He had Blair's love and Blair's trust and Blair's heart and yet, somehow, he'd been as blind to what Blair was as a stranger might be.

Incacha had recognized the power in Blair moments after meeting him. He'd known immediately what the boy before him was. Blair had tried to down play his own importance saying that Jim learned from him and he learned from Jim, but Incacha had laughed. He had not been fooled by Blair's youth, or size, or seeming naivete. Incacha saw. Why hadn't Jim?

Why had it taken this latest tragedy to make Jim face the truth? Blair was, well, magical. When push came to shove, Blair knew pretty much everything about Jim and his powers while Jim was pretty much in the dark about Blair's. Why?

When it came right down to it, as long as he was experiencing a few minutes of painfully honest clarity, he needed Blair a whole lot more than Blair needed him.

So why the wall, the perpetuated ignorance? Jealousy? Nah, that wasn't it. Why would he be jealous of Blair's gifts? He had more than enough "gifts" of his own to deal with. Being a Sentinel was all he could handle. He didn't envy Blair his own.

Perhaps he was jealous. Not envious but just plain old fashioned jealous. Blair had been very busy in Cascade between school and the PD and the large circle of friends and acquaintances who called and came by and took up his time. Even so, Jim had been first with Blair in Cascade. If Jim needed him, if Jim wanted him, Blair would cut a class, call in a favor, fucking jump through hoops if that's what it took to be at Jim's beck and call.

Their lives didn't quite work that way any more. School took up the vast majority of Blair's time. Tommy grabbed another huge chunk. Then there was the tutoring, the town council, the rez business, and the continuing self-study in anthropology.

So much of Blair's time and energy was directed elsewhere, directed toward people and concerns that had nothing to do with Jim.

And, yeah, he was jealous of everything and everyone that deflected Blair's attention away from him. The deeper Blair became involved in Shamanic things, the less time there was for Jim. Had Blair known that?

Had Jim made it hard or even impossible for Blair to tell him what was going on in his new life?

When Jim and Blair had finally admitted they loved each other, Jim had promised himself he would do better by Blair this time. Superficially, he had. He'd been more willing to share his hopes and dreams and fears with Blair. He'd made sure that Blair heard him vocalize his love. He'd opened up more than he'd thought he was capable of.

Had it all been one-sided? In his jealousy, had he been willing to give but not receive? Had he been willing to hear Blair's hopes and dreams and fears? He'd heard Blair say he loved him but had he ever considered the sacrifices that Blair made for loving him?

Jim had been married before. He'd taken a chance with Carolyn. It had been a horror show of a marriage but at least he'd had his opportunity. He could have lived the whole dream--the wife, the kids, the career, the home in suburbia. He and Carolyn had blown it but at least in the accounting of his life, his marriage stood in the gave-it-a-shot column.

Blair had been a grad student when they met. He'd been just short of starting a regular grown-up life with regular grown-up responsibilities, like a wife and kids and a mortgage. Enter Jim Ellison, Sentinel extraordinaire. He'd sucked up most of Blair's time and energy then stood back and watched while the kid had sabotaged his own career to save Jim's hide.

When the dust had started to settle, Jim had rushed after Blair, had made love to him and then had taken up residence in Blair's new house and Blair's new life.

Sandburg never had the chance to add marriage to his own column of gave-it-a-shot. And unless the law changed so that they could be married, Jim hoped Blair never would .

Until this moment, had he really had any concept of the multitude of things Blair gave up each time he told Jim he loved him? Had he had any comprehension of the sacrifices Blair had made to be with him?

When he found Blair, this time he really would do better. This time he'd not only be willing to share his burdens with Blair but he'd make sure that Blair knew it was safe to share his own burdens with Jim.

He reclined the seat as much as the cramped cabin would allow and, for the first time in two days, let himself fall asleep.

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

"Francisco, this is stupid." Blair backed up a step when he saw the flash of fury in the other man's eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean stupid. I just don't want to be left here alone. I want to come with you to Santiago."

"Don't be ridiculous, Blair. The town house is not ready and I will be busy the whole time. It is only for a few days."

"But..."

"It is business, Blair. I won't have time to entertain you."

"I could tour the city by myself."

Francisco narrowed his dark eyes. "Really? You seem very anxious to go to Santiago. Do you plan to escape me there? Slip out to the airport or perhaps just get use of a telephone? Do you think I have no intelligence, querido? I feel how you pull away from my touch."

"That's not true," Blair lied.

"Three nights and you still refuse me."

"You said you were giving me time," Blair said.

"Time? You dare to speak to me about time? I waited two years for you." Francisco crowded Blair until the backs of Blair's legs were pressed against the bed. "Two years I sat in that stinking hole that you helped put me in. And what were you doing while I was there? You were busy fucking Ellison. Busy betraying me with him."

Blair's heart was beating frantically. This was it. Francisco was going to kill him. Oh, he would fight back, of course but ultimately he would die. Francisco had at least five armed men who wandered about the house. They hadn't bothered to hide their contempt for Blair when Francisco wasn't with him. They would relish the idea of killing their boss's novio.

Think, Blair. The most important thing was to get through this.

Blair slid his arms around Francisco's neck and pressed his body up against him.

"No, Francisco." Francisco froze in Blair's arms.

"No what?" he asked cautiously.

"No, I didn't betray you." He gave Francisco a soft, closed mouth kiss. "I didn't know you were waiting for me. How could I have known? So, yes, I gave my body to Jim but that was all. How could I give him more when I was in love with you?"

Francisco looked confused, doubtful. Then he clutched Blair close, burying his face in the crook of Blair's neck.

"Dios, Blair, you cannot know how much I have wanted to hear that. How much I needed to hear that."

Blair, telling himself over and over in his head that he could do this, gave Francisco his best sultry smile. "Let me show you, Francisco," he whispered. He pushed them away from the edge of the bed.

As he plunged his tongue into Francisco's mouth, Blair unbuttoned the other man's shirt, smoothing his hands over the bared flesh. He felt Francisco's breath quicken, his dick harden.

Without breaking their kiss, Blair started to work loose the buckle of Francisco's belt. Using everything he'd learned in the last four months about pleasing another man, Blair then sank to his knees and took Francisco into his mouth. Francisco moaned and dug his hands into Blair's hair.

Sorry, Jim, so sorry, he thought, applying the tricks his lover had taught him on Francisco's cock.

To his mortification, Blair's own cock was suddenly rock hard in his jeans. It doesn't mean anything, he assured himself as he moved his wet mouth up and down Francisco's shaft.

It doesn't mean anything. He was a man and men react to stimuli.

That's all it is, he repeated to himself as he swallowed Francisco's come.

That's all it is, he repeated to himself, when, several minutes later he let himself orgasm into Francisco's stroking hand.

It didn't mean anything.

Heartsick, Blair packed a bag to accompany Francisco to Santiago. It wasn't really betraying Jim.

Was it?

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

Mexico City had been a big waste of time.

Connor's Spanish wasn't quite as good as she'd led him to believe but he was damn glad she was here.

She reminded him to eat, reminded him to sleep, and cheered him on. He knew she was doing it more out of concern and friendship for Sandburg than for him but was still grateful for her.

Yesterday his contact in the CIA had come up with Maya's address. Another waste of time. The girl had been clueless about where Blair might be. She'd been pretty fucking hostile, too, when she'd discovered the emails from Sandburg weren't.

Of course, she'd never been a big fan of Jim anyway. He had, after all, put her father in prison.

Jim had to admit, though, the past two years had made the girl more beautiful. Her long hair was cut into a sleeker, more sophisticated style. She'd dropped the few pounds of adolescent roundness she'd carried back in college making her figure thin yet, womanly. Perfect for Sandburg.

But Blair hadn't answered her letters, hadn't come running to her. Witness, Ellison, one of Blair's sacrifices. This woman was one of those many things that Sandburg gave up every time he told Jim he loved him.

Back at the hotel, Jim showered and laid back on the bed. Connor was in the downstairs restaurant but Jim just couldn't face dinner yet.

What now? What fucking now? There had been no other leads. No credit card trail, no passport to follow. Simon had questioned people in town and at the rez and no one had seen anything unusual. Blair hadn't connected with him in three days. He was beginning to doubt again.

You have to believe, Tommy had warned him. In order for this to work, you have to believe.

He closed his eyes. Blair, where are you?


	3. Chapter 3

It had taken three hours to get to Santiago and Blair had spent the drive looking out the car window, trying to get some idea of location. It had been too dark to get his bearings, not that he had such a terrific sense of direction anyway. Francisco passed the time yelling in Spanish on a cell phone. Blair had listened in on part of the conversation. Apparently some upstarts weren't willing to just hand back the territories they'd watched over while Francisco was in prison. It didn't really concern him, Blair reminded himself. He wasn't attached to the police department in Chile. The only thing he needed to worry about was keeping Jim safe and getting the fuck away from Francisco.

Francisco obviously trusted Blair to hear all about his business or he didn't realize how fluent Blair's Spanish was. Blair had not chosen to enlight him.

They had slept for a few hours in the early morning then Francisco had taken off. He and Francisco had agreed that Blair would stay in the house while he was gone. Blair had Carlos within a few yards of him all the time. The phone and computer were disconnected and two armed guards were placed discreetly at the exits of the house. All for Blair's protection, Francisco had assured him. He'd smiled at Francisco, pretending he was delighted with the other man's concern for him.

Blair sat on the floor of the bedroom, reading the local newspaper. The bedroom and bathroom were the only places that Carlos didn't join him. The door to the bedroom was locked from the outside. Merely for his protection, of course.

Blair folded the paper and set it on the floor in front of him. He held his hand a few feet above the paper and said "Wind."

The top sheets stirred slightly in a breeze.

He tried again. "Wind," he commanded.

A sudden gust took the paper flying across the room knocking over a crystal lamp.

Immediately there was rap on the bedroom door. "Señor Sandburg?"

"I'm fine, Carlos. Thank you." Fuck. Okay, enough with the parlor tricks. He'd put off trying to communicate with Jim for three days. Partly because Francisco never let him out of his sight.

Francisco had not pushed for more then the oral sex Blair had given for him. He had been content to merely hold Blair in the bed they shared this morning. That's when Blair came to the realization that it wasn't the sexual conquest Francisco had wanted from him. He was honestly ready to wait for Blair to make the first move. What Francisco had wanted was Blair's declaration of love. Somehow, Blair found that even more frightening.

Yeah, part of not seeking that spiritual connection had been lack of opportunity but the other part, the most important part, was that he felt ashamed. It was one thing to be seduced while half asleep but it was another to have knelt before Francisco and serviced him like some two-bit whore.

He was being stupid. Jim would have done the same thing if it had been necessary. He would have encouraged Blair to do what had to be done. Maybe this was more tied up with feeling guilty for wanting to betray Jim those last two weeks in Pinecrest. Yeah, he'd come to his senses before he'd actually done anything foolish and permanent like break up with Jim and run to Maya but, fuck, he'd thought about it.

That almost betrayal of the heart coupled with the physical betrayal he committed with Francisco, had had Blair's head spinning.

Well, no more. He'd continue to do what he had to do to keep Francisco happy while he waited for his chance to escape. The chance would come.

In the meanwhile, it was time to try calling in the cavalry.

He sat cross-legged in the middle of the bedroom floor, eyes open. He began to slow his breathing, listen to his heartbeat and center himself. Feel the rhythm of life within him. Step back inside his head and release.

Some people, appeared softer, more vulnerable while they slept. Not Jim. Even asleep, Blair decided, even sprawled across a queen-sized bed wearing wrinkled clothes and sporting dark circles under his eyes, Jim looked every inch a warrior.

Blair called out Jim's name and Jim sat up, immediately awake and alert.

Yeah, every inch a beautiful warrior.

Blair called to him again.

"Chief?" Jim glanced around the hotel room, apparently hearing but not seeing Blair. "Chief is that you? Of course it's you. Okay, are you all right? Where are you at?" Jim shook his head. "Sorry, Sandburg. Tommy said I was supposed to listen not talk in case you have trouble holding the link between us." He snapped his mouth shut and cocked his head slightly. "Okay, I'm listening."

Unbelievable. Jim not only believed but he'd obviously gone to Tommy for instruction. A surge of love flooded Blair. He'd never again doubt that this incredible man was the right one for him.

"Blair?" Jim said anxiously.

Oops. No time to stop and admire his Sentinel. Shit. Blair could feel their connection wavering. He'd have to be quick.

I'm fine. I'm in Santiago with Francisco Rivero.

He heard Jim shout, "I love you, Blair," as he snapped back into his body.

Carlos squatted in front of him, shaking him by the shoulders. "Señor Sandburg. Señor Sandburg, can you hear me?"

"Uh, yeah, Carlos."

Carlos dropped his hands. "You are okay?"

"I'm fine, Carlos. Really."

"I came in to bring you coffee and you did not answer me."

"I was just thinking," Blair said, standing.

"No, I know what I saw. Your eyes were open and you could not see or hear me."

"I was meditating. It helps me relax." He gave Carlos his most innocent smile and motioned at the serving tray. "Did you want to join me?"

"Señor Sandburg, it was like a seizure."

"No, it wasn't."

"I will have to tell him when he gets back."

"Carlos, we don't have to bother Francisco with every little thing."

"No, if anything happens to you, he will kill me." Carlos left the room, clicking the door closed behind him. A second later, Blair heard the lock turn.

Oh, man, fucking terrific. If he'd imagined he had been watched closely before, he wouldn't be breathing without an audience now.

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

Jim had placed a call to Simon, to his contact in the CIA and made plane reservations for Santiago by the time Connor got out of the shower.

"What happened?" she asked as Jim began to pack his bag. "Did we get a lead?"

"Sort of," he said. "I think this is all tied up with Maya's cousin, Francisco Rivero."

"How?" Connor started filling her own suitcase.

"I'm not sure. Simon is checking into it. He's also got a friend in the police department in Peru that might have better luck than we would on our own."

"So how did you put it together?"

Jim hesitated for a moment. "It's a Sentinel-Shaman thing. Okay?"

Connor smiled. "Just checking. When does our plane leave?"

Simon's call came just a few minutes before they were due to leave the hotel. Rivero had escaped from Federal prison three weeks ago. Neither Simon nor Jim could come up with an explanation for Rivero's elaborately planned ruse to kidnap Blair. It would have made more sense to kill him in Washington. Instead, Rivero had engineered it to look as if Blair had left of his own volition.

It would have worked, too, had Blair not come to him. There was no way Francisco could have known that he and Blair were connected on a spiritual plane.

That didn't sound nearly as ridiculous to him as it should have. It didn't seem nearly as implausible to him as it would have only days ago.

As their taxi moved toward the airport, he remembered how clearly Blair had called his name. The rush of Blair's breath against his skin as the words Santiago and Francisco Rivero were said to him.

All this Shaman stuff was true. He might not have been willing to accept it before but he welcomed it now.

They had made the trip from Mexico City to Santiago via hell. The short notice and wanting to leave early that morning had Connor and him skipping around South America, touring some pretty out of the way airports.

His frustration was coming to a flash point by the time they landed in Santiago. He realized that Connor was keeping a cooler head than he was, as she put them in a taxi bound for a hotel close to the airport.

Then again, Connor wasn't in love with Sandburg. If anything happened to Blair, Connor would lose a friend. He would lose the only person in the world who truly knew him, who understood him and who chose to love him anyway.

He was aware he could be a total pain in the ass to live with. Carolyn had told him often enough. So had Sandburg for that matter. Unlike Carolyn, though, even when Blair had said it in anger, it had been flavored with love and amusement.

If Blair were gone, Connor would only lose someone who was in her life. Jim would lose his reason for living.

It was funny but somehow, over the past four years, the way he looked at himself was colored by the way Blair saw him. He was a good cop and always had been but Blair looked at him and saw some kind of a hero. He knew he wasn't one, really, but Blair's vision of him made him want to be more, to try harder, to measure up to Sandburg's expectations.

Blair kept him up on a pedestal, yeah, but he never let Jim take more than his share of responsibility when things went wrong. It was like Blair saw two men at once: the man Jim was and the man Jim could be.

As he watched the city fly by them, Jim realized he'd made the mistake of believing all that had to happen for their relationship to work was for him to go back to the blue print of a marriage he'd been carrying around in his head. All he had to do was replace his poor choice, Carolyn, with the right choice, Blair.

He'd forgotten to factor in the possibility that his ideal of marriage might have been fucked up. All this time he'd assumed the problem was the participants, that the plan was right but the players were wrong.

What did he know about a good marriage anyway? He hadn't witnessed one in the house he grew up in. The married friends he'd had over the years hadn't exactly been good role models.

Blair had all the intellectual knowledge of marriage that anyone could ever want. He could give a run down of the institution from its primitive forerunners to the complex tribal unions of the Northern Hill People. For all that, Jim didn't think Blair had much of an opportunity to see a loving, stable relationship grow, settle and mature either.

They weren't a traditional couple. Why had Jim tried to pigeon-hole them? In a way, he supposed he was doing it for himself. Marriage was the basic unit of relationship that existed in this world for two adults in love. Maybe he'd done it for Sandburg, too, looking to give Blair what Naomi hadn't while he was growing up.

The problem was traditional western marriage wasn't enough. They were joined and interlocked in ways regular couples weren't. They were in love, yes, and that was pretty standard stuff. They lived together; most married couples did. They shared things from sex to finances to personal space, all things married couples usually did.

Now was the time to admit there was more. Time to own up to the whole spiritual realm. He and Blair were joined, maybe in this world and the next. Soul mates had always seemed a sappy, romantic concept to him. He was, even before he realized he was a Sentinel, a man who based his worldview on what he could sense with his body and prove with his mind. He had a choice. He could lay down a lifetime of teachings of what a relationship should be and truly open himself to the possibilities or he could continue to muddle through and never know how much, how deep, how completing a love could be.

He and Connor checked into the hotel. Their room looked pretty much like the last. Jim didn't bother to unpack.

"I'll get us something to eat," Connor offered.

"That would be great, Connor. I want to make a couple of calls."

The local police weren't much help. Jim called Simon to update him. Simon wasn't much help either but promised to call back as soon as he knew anything.

Jim sat on the edge of the bed, wondering how much more he could take of this.

"Help me, Jim."

Blair stood before him. His hair was tousled as though he'd just gotten out of bed. Blood seeped from a cut on his top lip and his left cheek was darkened.

"Blair, where are you?" Jim put out his hand to touch Blair then drew it back. As solid as Blair appeared, Jim wasn't sure if it would upset their connection if he attempted to make physical contact with him.

"Leaving," Blair said.

"Leaving Santiago? When? Where are you now?"

Blair was gone.

"Blair, wait," he shouted. "Damn it." The phone ringing interrupted his search for something to fling against the wall. "Ellison."

"Jim, it's Simon."

Too anxious to bother with niceties, he demanded "What did you find out?"

"I've got a possible address for Rivero in Santiago."

Jim pulled pen and paper out of the nightstand. "Go."

"There's more to it. Apparently the men Rivero left in charge of his operations while he was in the States aren't willing to give them back. The police are worried about a turf war. There are rumors that a hit is out on Rivero and his boyfriend."

"His boyfriend?"

"Yeah," Simon sounded exhausted. "It seems Rivero came back with a pretty blue-eyed American boyfriend."

"Sandburg."

"That would be my guess." Simon paused. "Look, Jim, you don't think that Blair would have, you know..."

"Would have come here willingly to be with Rivero? Jesus, Simon, why can't you believe me when I tell you that Blair and I love each other?"

"It's hard for me, Jim, okay?"

He sighed. "I know, I know. Just understand that Blair is not here because he wants to be."

"I'm trying. Be careful. All three of you could be caught in the crossfire there."

"We will be."

Simon gave Jim Rivero's address. "Uh, Jim?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Simon. I know you'll come around. Just don't let Blair see how you feel when we get back. It would kill him." Jim hung up and called a taxi.

Connor walked in, cups of coffee and bag of pastries in hand.

"A taxi is on the way, Connor. We've got to move. Blair's been hurt and they're leaving town."

Connor gave him a coffee and checked her weapon. "The police called?"

"I'll fill you in on the ride. Simon got us an address for Rivero." He was being a prick, expecting her to put her life on the line but only giving her part of the story. It was time to accept that not only did some people know he was a Sentinel but they were perfectly okay with it. "It's another Sentinel-Shaman thing." He tucked his gun into the holster at the small of his back.

"Right then," Connor said. "Let's go."

I'm coming, Blair. I'm coming.

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

Francisco admitted to himself that things were going badly. Almost twenty hours of pleading his case, smiling in the faces of those idiots in the cartel, eating their food, drinking their wine and wanting to slit their throats, had amounted to nothing. Without Gustavo's support and with a two-year absence, they were not going to help him wrestle control back from his two old friends, Fuentes and Ortega.

His fortune was basically intact. It was his means of making more, his corner of the drug trade and his life that were in jeopardy. Jorge Fuentes and Juan Ortega had grown cocky while he was away. They had forgotten that it was he, Francisco Rivero, who had brought them up from the gutter and trained them. They had forgotten they were low life scum while he had the blood of generations of aristocrats in his veins. He would destroy them.

For now though, the two had Chilean officials on their payroll and the unofficial support of the cartel. His smartest option was to leave Chile for a while. He could secure himself in Brazil or even Switzerland for a time. From there, a small army of mercenaries could be hired. He would have Fuentes, Ortega and a select few of the cartel killed.

True, the cartel had freed him from prison but now, when he needed their support, they backed away saying he had to fight his own battles. What had he expected? They were old cronies of Gustavo's, not his own contemporaries. They would all pay for this.

He would leave as soon as possible. Blair would accompany him.

Ah, Blair, so beautiful, so bright, so hot and sensual and such a disappointment to him.

Blair had said he loved him and yet, he held back. Francisco enjoyed Blair's body so much perhaps he had let himself be tricked. Blair had been his talisman while he was incarcerated. Blair had been his goal, his reason for remaining sane amid the insanity of prison. He knew Blair felt the connection between them. How could he not? It was so strong, like a pulsating, living thing. Still, Blair was keeping much of himself, far too much of himself, hidden from him.

Francisco climbed the steps to their bedroom. Carlos waited by the door.

"They won't help us, Carlos."

"What now?" Carlos asked as he handed the bedroom key to Francisco.

"For now, we go to Switzerland. Emil and Arturo are making the arrangements and bringing the cars around. Pack what you need." He unlocked the door.

"One thing, Señor Rivero."

"Yes, Carlos?"

"Señor Sandburg."

"Blair is coming with us," Francisco answered sharply. He knew Carlos didn't approve of Blair but that he'd been smart enough to try to hide it. Carlos had served Gustavo before the old man had left the cartel and had been with Francisco ever since.

"Naturally, but last night when I brought coffee to him he was not well. I think he was having a seizure."

"You didn't call me?"

"He insisted he was all right. He said he was meditating but it looked like a seizure to me."

One more damn thing. Dios. As his lover Blair was supposed to be sharing Francisco's burdens, not adding to them.

"Thank you, Carlos. We need to leave in the next hour or so. It's not safe for any of us."

"I'll be ready," Carlos said as Francisco went into the bedroom.

Blair looked like a cherub as he slept. Tenderness welled inside him. He rarely saw Blair so still, sweet mouth slack in rest, wide eyes shut, long hair fanned around his head.

Perhaps he had expected too much, too soon from Blair. He had known that he and Blair were destined to be together. Thinking Francisco was out of his reach, Blair had settled for someone else. Francisco had take two years to work out the details of their relationship. Blair had only had a handful of days.

Blair was beautiful in repose. Purity personified. Francisco could feel the spiritual wholesomeness that surrounded Blair. It made him feel clean again just being with him.

He had known from the instant they met that Blair's inherent goodness could wash away the ugliness that resided in his soul. He had known Blair's love could heal the pain inside him.

Time was short but he needed a quiet moment to touch Blair before they began this journey. He slipped off his shoes and laid on the bed next to his sleeping lover. Blair turned instinctively to the warm body next to him, snuggling into Francisco's waiting arms.

This was what he had wanted all his life. So much had gone wrong for him. The terror he'd grown up with in his father's house. The world saw Gustavo as a charming, engaging man. Only those who lived in the household knew the abuse his mother had endured at his father's hands. From the time he'd been a little boy Francisco dreamed he would one day save his mother. She'd died before he had the chance. Not long after, Gustavo left the cartel, effectively deserting Francisco. Soon, he'd ended up in prison. Upon his return to Chile, he discovered Fuentes and Ortega had betrayed him. Now the cartel had left him unprotected.

It was as though the fates were stacked against him ever finding happiness. Blair sniffed in his sleep and Francisco smiled. This man was what God had given him to balance the scales. With Blair he could find happiness.

He rubbed Blair's back and kissed his forehead. "I love you, Blair."

A sleepy reply was murmured against Francisco's neck. "Love you, too, Jim."

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

Blair woke in a heap on the bedroom floor. He sat up his back stinging from the impact of hitting the tile. Francisco stood above him, eyes blazing.

Blair pushed his hair out of his face and rose to his knees. "Francisco? What's wrong? What happened?"

"You lying whore." Francisco slammed his fist into Blair's face, catching him on the mouth and left cheek.

Scooting out of Francisco's reach, Blair cried out, "What the fuck was that for?"

Francisco lunged forward, grabbed Blair by the hair and pulled him to his feet. "Liar. You are a fucking liar."

"Stop it, man. You're hurting me." Damn it, damn it. Whatever had set Francisco off had finally turned him from a lover to a killer.

The pounding on the door momentarily distracted Francisco. "Señor Rivero? Is everything all right?"

"It's fine, Carlos."

"Are you sure?" Carlos sounded reluctant to leave.

"Yes. Go pack, Carlos." Francisco waited a moment for Carlos to move away then turned back to Blair. "I should kill you right where you stand."

"Please, Francisco," Blair said, "tell me what's wrong."

"You call out to him in your sleep, you worthless slut. You lay in our bed and dream of your cop lover." Francisco released Blair's hair and raised his fist as if to strike him again.

Oh, God. Think, Sandburg. Talk. Use your head. "Francisco, stop it. Talk to me. Let's just talk about this, okay?" Blair wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist. Blood. "Listen to me, Francisco. I haven't done anything wrong. I swear to you."

"You...you," Francisco faltered as Blair closed the space between them, putting his arms around his waist and holding tight.

"I haven't done anything wrong, Francisco," Blair soothed.

"I said 'I love you' and you said 'I love you, too, Jim.'" Francisco trembled in his embrace and Blair pushed his advantage.

"I was asleep, man. I lived with Jim for a long time, Francisco. You know that. It was just an automatic response, okay? It didn't mean anything. You know how I really feel, right? I've told you." Blair pressed his sore mouth against the other man's. After a moment, Francisco gently kissed him back. "What did I tell you, Francisco? What did I say to you when I was awake and rational?"

"You said you were in love with me."

"That's right," Blair said.

Francisco touched the side of Blair's face. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Blair."

"It's okay. Everything will be okay." Blair heaved a sigh of relief. Crisis averted but he wasn't foolish enough to think he was safe for long. "Tell me what's wrong."

"I went to the talk to the cartel. No one will help me, Blair."

"Oh. So what is that going to mean to you?"

"It means we're in great danger. We're leaving right away." Francisco pulled out the two suitcases they'd unpacked less than twenty-four hours ago. "Pack your things quickly."

"Sure." Blair threw his suitcase up on the bed. "Where are we going? Back to the mountain house?"

"Do not worry, querido. We're going somewhere safe but we'll be back. I'm going to give you the life I promised." He rubbed his eyes. "I am truly sorry I hit you, Blair. I am a stupid, jealous bastard."

Blair knew it wouldn't be the last time Francisco freaked out on him. "I told you I'm okay. I understand. You're under a lot of pressure right now."

"I am," Francisco agreed. "Please, Blair, go wash the blood off your face. I can't bear to see what I did to you."

"Yeah, okay." Blair closed the bathroom door behind him. In the mirror he could see a slight darkening on the left side of his face. The skin on his top lip was broken and blood oozed out slowly.

He touched the warm wetness of the wound and rubbed a few drops of the blood between his thumb and forefinger. Tommy had lectured at length about the magical powers of blood. It was the essence of life and it held the soul secrets of the body that it coursed through.

From his own studies at the university, he knew blood had awesome significance in most cultures through history. Blood sacrifice was a staple of religion from the earliest recorded history to Christ on the cross of Christianity. Blood brothers, blood packs, even the idea that the right to rule was passed through royal blood. A female's fertility was marked with blood. Idioms like 'blood is thicker than water' peppered languages all over the world.

These ideas were not without some scientific merit. Blood held the code of DNA. Down to the cellular level, blood kept safe the secrets of who and what a living creature was.

And Francisco, less than a week after kidnapping him, was already spilling his.

He leaned against the sink. He listened to his heartbeat and breathing. He concentrated on slowing both. He relaxed, stepped back in his head and released.

Jim, bordering on manic, was pacing in a hotel room. A different hotel than last time, Blair noted. Jim raised his head. "Blair?"

Help me, Jim.

"Blair, where are you?" It seemed, for a moment, that Jim was going to try to touch him. Then he dropped his hand.

Blair felt their connection slipping. Damn it. Not yet.

Leaving, he managed to get out before he snapped back.

"Blair?" Francisco was clutching his chin tightly.

"Yeah? Sorry. Did I take too long?" he asked, his tone bland.

"Is this what Carlos was talking about?"

"Carlos overreacted. I was mediating last night. Now, well, I'm just a little weirded out with everything happening."

Francisco let go of Blair's chin, remaining silent.

"Oh, man. Listen, if you're really worried, I'll see a doctor, okay?"

"Once we're settled," Francisco agreed, walking back into the bedroom.

Blair washed his face then finished packing.

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

The taxi was a battered subcompact. The boy driving it didn't look old enough to have a license. Jim tried to keep his mind open for Blair to contact him but so far nothing. He listened to Connor rattle off Rivero's address. How could the world look so damn normal? Morning traffic was heavy but the young driver swerved fearlessly through it. Good, keep speeding, kid.

As the sun grew stronger in the sky, Jim knew they were making a mistake. "Connor, we need to go to the airport." He quickly gave the driver new instructions.

"What are you doing?" Connor said as the taxi changed directions.

"He's going to the airport."

"Sentinel-Shaman thing, right?"

"Right."

"All right then." Connor turned to him. "So, you had a vision or what?"

"Or what," Jim said.

"Come on," she persisted. "You can tell me."

"Connor," he warned.

"For heaven's sake, Jim. It's not like it's a big secret like it was in Cascade? Simon knows, Merrie knows. The way she talks the whole darn tribe knows."

"Simon's known almost from the beginning. I had to tell him to keep Sandburg with me. Merrie knows because she's part of the Watumsa." He looked at the window, his stomach churning. He appreciated Connor trying to distract him but he was trying to stay open for Blair.

"And the tribe?"

God, he might as well just tell her. "The tribe knows because they're my tribe. I'm their Sentinel and Sandburg is one of their Shamans. We didn't have to tell them or explain it to them, they just knew. Okay?"

She gave him a smug smile. "Not as hard to talk about it as you thought, huh?"

"No, it's not." He linked his fingers and stretched as best he could in the confines of the car. "Connor, thanks for everything."

Connor nodded. "I know you and Sandy would do the same for me."

"I hope we never have to."

It wouldn't be long now.

I'm coming, Blair. Just hold on.

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

Carlos drove them to the airport. Francisco and Blair were in the back seat. Arturo and Emil followed behind them in a second car in case there was a problem on the way.

Blair was reclined, his head in Francisco's lap.

_I'm coming, Blair. Hang on._

He lifted his head at the sound of Jim's voice.

"Relax, Blair," Francisco whispered, gently pressing Blair's head back down against the soft fabric covering his thighs. "Rest until we arrive at the airport." He carefully carded the hair around Blair's face. "I am so sorry."

"I told you it's okay, Francisco." Blair closed his eyes and feigned sleep.

He'd heard Jim clearly, as if he'd been in the car with them. Could their connection run both ways now? Perhaps Jim's skepticism and his own unwillingness to share all the information about the bond they shared had been all that had kept them from being able to communicate.

There was so much to explore, so much to learn about each other and about the tie they shared. He only hoped they'd live long enough to do it.

The change in Francisco in the last hour was frightening. He'd gone from cocky to terrified. He'd admitted to Blair that they weren't safe in Chile any more. Blair wondered how safe he was anywhere as long as Francisco was around.

Blair held himself still as Francisco's fingers moved from his hair to skim his lips. "I will keep you safe, querido."

Yeah, real safe. At least until the next time Francisco's poseable Barbie doll changed back into a living, breathing man.

Francisco had the cars stop a hundred meters from the entrance, at the left side. Francisco gave him a tiny shake. "We're here, Blair. Please, we have to hurry."

Blair sat up and Francisco pulled him into his arms. "Soon, this will all be behind us. I promise." He kissed Blair briefly. "Come on."

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

As they pulled into the departure circle of the airport, Jim heard Blair's voice. He scanned the lot and saw two late model American sedans parked a few hundred feet from the main entrance, off to the side and out of the way. Jim told the driver to stop the taxi just out of view of the cars. He shifted till he was able to look in the windows of the cars.

Francisco and Blair were in the back seat of the first car. Kissing.

Jim's world reeled wildly for a moment, then righted itself. Blair would never willingly betray him. Never.

"What is it, Jim?" Connor asked. "Do you see them?"

"Yeah." He paid the driver and motioned for Connor to get out but stay down. "There are four of them plus Blair." He indicated the cars.

"How do you want to handle this?"

"Circle around, you right, me left, but stay out of sight. Stay close but let them get into the airport. We shouldn't have too much trouble taking Blair back in the middle of a crowded airport."

"You know, Jim," Connor said as she began to move away from him, "I might feel a little better about this if you actually sounded like you believed that."

"Yeah." He started around the car. "Be careful, Connor."

"You, too."

Jim stayed down, keeping parked cars between Francisco's little band and himself.

Go inside, damn it.

They continued to stand at the cars. He watched as Francisco stroked the side of Blair's face and Blair leaned into the touch. He heard Francisco's low whisper of "I love you, Blair. Everything will be fine."

Blair murmured back. "I know, Francisco."

The scene was so intimate it stabbed the breath out of Jim.

Fuck. Don't be fooled again by believing the obvious to be true.

Sandburg was smart and resourceful. He'd have done whatever it would have taken to survive. Jim looked carefully. Blair's face was bruised and his mouth was swollen. He was there under duress. That was the truth.

Rivero, though. In love with Blair?

Jim moved closer.

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

Something wasn't right. Francisco felt it. Time was nearly up. He had to get them inside the airport immediately. A contract killing would be hard to carry out inside the busy terminal. Not impossible, naturally, but much more difficult.

He and Blair slid out of the back seat. Blair looked up at him and he was filled with remorse. A bruised face and a broken lip, was this how he treated the one person in the world he loved?

Deep within him he knew this was only the beginning. Hadn't he watched this play over and over again with his mother and father? Hadn't Gustavo sworn each time that he would never hurt her again? Year after year, Gustavo had beaten her down physically and mentally while he had watched.

Francisco's throat constricted, making it difficult to breathe for a moment. Apparently he'd done more than watch. He'd learned. Learned that this was the way a man treated the ones he loved.

After his mother's death, his father had perpetuated the myth of the great love they shared. Was that what was in store for him and Blair?

Was it any wonder that he hated his father as much as he loved him? Not long after they had buried Francisco's mother, Gustavo announced he was leaving his life with the cartel. Francisco never knew the real reason, he probably never would but it meant only one thing to him. His father's desertion was complete.

He touched Blair's face and Blair leaned into his hand. "I love you, Blair. Everything will be fine."

He saw no anger, no hate in Blair's eyes, only sadness. "I know, Francisco."

Out of the corner of his eye, Francisco caught the gleam of metal in the sunlight. "Carlos, what are you doing?"

"Taking care of a few loose ends, Rivero." Carlos advanced on Blair, knife in hand. When Francisco reached for his gun, he heard the ominous cold snap of metal on metal. Arturo and Emil held guns pointed discreetly at him and Blair. "You'll be dead before you have a chance to draw."

"Why, Carlos? You've been with my family for years."

"You bring this, this perversion to flaunt in front of us?" He indicated Blair with a jerk of his chin. "It was hard enough to keep what was yours and to keep men loyal to you while you were in prison. You were never the leader your father was but we'd hoped, eventually, you would be."

"Carlos, don't do this," Blair said in perfect Spanish.

Carlos gave him an ugly smile. "Ah, I wondered if you understood everything. Don't even speak to me, you little faggot. The cartel might have supported Rivero without you. You've ruined everything."

"Let us get on the plane, Carlos. You'll never have to see us again." Francisco tasted the bile on his tongue. His very mortality was waning before him.

"You think it is that easy?" Carlos laughed. "Your indiscretion, your arrogant stupidity has cost us everything. Did you really think we wanted to leave Chile and follow you all over? We," he nodded at the two men behind him, "would have helped you. Dios, Rivero, did you think we could live with this abomination among us? The cartel wants you both dead."

As Carlos spoke, Francisco positioned himself in front of Blair. "It is that easy, Carlos. I have a fortune. Let us get on that plane and it is yours."

"And what will I do with it? Spend the rest of my life running from the cartel? No, Rivero. It's too late." Carlos lunged at Blair.

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

A moment too late, Blair realized what Francisco planned. "No, Francisco," he shouted as Carlos plunged the knife meant for him into Francisco's chest.

Blair watched in horror as Francisco twisted slowly to the ground. Blood rushed from his chest and speckled his lips.

"You were supposed to be first but second works, too," Carlos said, advancing again on Blair.

A shot rang out and Carlos, a look of stunned surprise on his face, jerked forward with the force of the bullet piercing his shoulder. Arturo, Emil and Blair all swung in the direction the shot came from. There, emerging from between two parked cars, was Jim.

"Freeze," Jim shouted but Blair knew Emil and Arturo wouldn't. He saw their guns raise and aim at Jim.

Without thinking, Blair lifted his hands and commanded "Wind."

Immediately, a spurt of gale force wind knocked Emil and Arturo to the pavement, their guns clattering on the asphalt.

Jim and Megan ran forward, pinning the two men to the ground and cuffing them. "You okay, Chief?" Jim asked.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay. You and Megan all right?"

"We're fine, Sandy," Megan answered. "Happy to see you."

"Me, too," Blair said. The sound of Francisco's labored breathing distracted him from Jim and Megan.

"Blair," he heard Francisco moan.

It was so fucking surreal. The sound of approaching sirens filled the air. Planes were taking off and landing, their roars just above his head. The din of a frightened, gathering crowd skirted around his consciousness. He guessed the morning commuters at the airport weren't used to starting their day with a shoot-out.

"Chief?" Jim stood up and opened his arms to Blair.

Behind him, probably drawing his dying breaths, Francisco said "Querido?"

Blair was torn.

"Chief?" Jim said uncertainly, taking a step over the prone Arturo and Emil. Jim dropped his arms to his sides.

"Jim," Blair answered. Francisco's breathing was gurgling now. No way would an ambulance get there in time to make a difference. He turned his back on Jim and went to Francisco. Kneeling on the ground, he bent to pull the dying man up into his arms.

Blair looked up to meet Jim's confused gaze. "I'm a Shaman, Jim."

Jim's expression cleared and he nodded. "Do what you have to, Blair."

He sat down, gathering up Francisco so his head and shoulders were resting on Blair's lap.

"Blair." The word bubbled out on a bright red trickle.

"I'm right here, Francisco."

"You're not hurt?"

"I'm fine, Francisco. You saved my life." Blair chose not to mention he would never have been in danger had Francisco not kidnapped him in the first place.

"I'm glad." He coughed and blood tinged his lips.

"Just rest, Francisco. Help will be here soon."

"No, Blair." Francisco reached up his hand to touch Blair's mouth. "Hermoso."

The warmth of Francisco's blood seeped through Blair's jeans and soaked his skin. Blair felt heat run through him and his vision blurred.

Blood is the essence of life, Tommy had told him. It carries the soul secrets of the body it courses through.

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

When his sight cleared, he was looking at the jungle of his visions. The sun was setting. Red streaks filled the sky and the air was sticky and warm. Like blood.

"Yes," Coyote said, "just like blood."

The wolf turned accusing eyes on Coyote. "You should never have taken me."

Coyote shrugged, looking passed the wolf to the underbrush. "I had to try."

"Why? You must have known it would end badly."

"Hope springs eternal? Where there is life, there is hope? Love conquers all? It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?" Coyote rubbed his muzzle against the wolf. "What do you want me to say?"

"Help me understand," the wolf said.

"Look up," Coyote urged.

The wolf lifted his eyes. The first and brightest stars of the evening shone through the grays and purples of twilight. "What am I supposed to see?"

His words still hung on the air when the stars began to spin and the wolf saw glimpses of what led Coyote to this place. A small boy, frightened, alone. A woman's cries of pain, tears for mercy. A man terrorizing and dominating both woman and child. The boy, now a man, still frightened, still alone.

Then the stars returned to their place in the sky.

"It didn't have to be this way," the wolf said.

"It was all in motion long before you became involved." With a sad chuckle, Coyote continued, "Everything goes on, wolf. Everything is as it should be."

"I couldn't do it. You had to have known that."

"Couldn't do what?"

"Couldn't give you my love."

Coyote ducked into the underbrush. His voice carried on the wind to wolf. "What about your forgiveness?"

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

"Blair?" Francisco's voice was faint, his eyes unfocused.

Blair couldn't give him absolution. It wasn't his to give and he wasn't sure if Francisco was even capable of feeling remorse for the atrocities he'd committed. Francisco was responsible for at least two murders in Cascade. Probably many others. God knows how many kids were junkies because of his participation in the drug trade. Francisco had spent most of his days living ruthlessly, without conscience.

If Francisco had hurt Jim, well, Shaman or not, Blair was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to forgive him. Blair could forgive any transgressions Francisco had made against him, however. He was a healer. Francisco's body was beyond healing but he could offer some healing to his spirit. That, at least, was within his power.

"I love you, querido."

"I know." Blair shifted Francisco so that he was cradling him closer. "I forgive you, Francisco."

"You are always so good," he said with a weak smile.

"Not always," Blair replied.

"Thank you, Blair." The words came out on a bloody rush of breath.

Francisco was gone.

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

The three of them remained in Santiago for two more days. Finally, numerous depositions given, legal questions cleared up, they were flying back to the States.

"Fucking paperwork," Jim grumbled as he looked out the plane window.

"So true," Blair agreed. "At least we'll be back home before our vacation is over."

Across the aisle, Megan laughed. "Somehow, this whole thing strikes me as a typical Sandburg-Ellison vacation."

"Yeah," Blair said, "but Jim and I are supposed to be living the quiet life out in the boondocks now, Megan."

"Hmmm. Maybe it was a last hurrah before your quiet life kicks in."

After Megan had fallen asleep, Jim laced his fingers through Blair's, resting their joined hands on Blair's thigh. They hadn't really had any time alone in Santiago.

"Chief?" Jim pitched his voice low.

"Yeah?"

"What you did back there at the airport, that was amazing." The frank admiration in Jim's voice embarrassed Blair.

"I wondered when we'd talk about that. I guess Megan didn't really see, huh? I, uh, have power over an element, just like Tommy. Well, not really just like Tommy because I haven't learned how to totally control it yet. I've never been able to use the wind with that kind of force before. I'd only, you know, moved little things like feather or newspapers. When I saw Arturo and Emil ready to shoot you, I sort of blew them over without thinking about it. Maybe my power is stronger when you're with me. I'll have to talk to Tommy about it. We can do a few experiments when we get back."

"Blair?" Jim interrupted.

"Yeah, Jim?"

"The wind thing was pretty amazing but that's not what I'm talking about."

"What are you talking about?"

"I listened in. Sorry," Jim said unrepentant. "I was talking about the way you forgave Rivero. I don't know if I could have if I were you. I don't know if I can for myself."

"I'm no saint, Jim."

"Thank God." Glancing around and seeing no one paying any attention to them, he gave Blair a quick kiss. "You're a Shaman. I'm only just starting to understand exactly what that entails but I want you to share it all with me, Chief. I want to be a part of it."

"You are. You always have been. I won't hold back anymore."

"I knew you were holding back but I let you because it was easier for me not to deal with it."

"We've got a lot to talk about when we get home, man."

"We do, but we've got a lot of time, too. Forever."

"Forever."

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~

 

Epilogue

Jim could smell fall in the air. Even though the days were still hot, the mornings and evenings had that distinctive aroma. The undercurrent of fertility that summer carried was being replaced by the cool waiting of autumn.

Blair was up in the foothills with Tommy. He'd be home soon. Jim had picked up their supper at the diner. knowing Blair would be starving when he got back.

It had been the best summer of Jim's life. Blair had taught a few summer school classes and had his regular town council and rez business to tend to but they'd had plenty of time together. His senses were sharper, stronger then ever. He could see Blair's power increasing, too. Apparently, could the tribe.

Tommy was slowly but surely turning the tribe's well-being over to Blair. The tribe seemed to take it in stride that their next Shaman would be a blue-eyed city boy. Jim's position in the town was secure. He had even held a couple of seminars on the county level about law enforcement.

This was truly their place.

Not everything was perfect, of course. Naomi still hadn't contacted Blair. Jim knew that hurt him but he also knew that Naomi would eventually accept them. He and Blair were together for as long as they lived and Naomi would just have to process that at her own speed. Blair said he was okay with that.

Simon had come around; he and Dotty were a hot item.

While Connor and Jim had been searching for Blair, Simon and Dotty had found each other. Dotty was planning on moving to Cascade by Thanksgiving. Jim wouldn't be surprised to hear of a wedding by Christmas.

Simon falling in love with Dotty had opened his eyes in many ways, he'd told Jim just a month ago. Simon had come to see that you can't help who you love, you just do. Good, bad, right, wrong, when the right one hits your life that's all that mattered. He'd apologized to Jim then for taking so long to realize that.

Jim had assured Simon that all was forgiven and they would never have to discuss it again.

Stevie and William had been out for a couple of days in August. The four of them had gone fishing and boating at Lake Quincy. Jim wasn't a hundred percent comfortable with his brother and dad yet, but according to Blair, their relationship was coming along nicely.

Jim had kept his promise to himself and was making strides towards being the true partner he wanted to be to Blair.

He could hear Blair's pick-up coming down the road. A few moments later, he could see it.  
Contentment, warm and rich, bubbled up in Jim as Blair swung out of the truck and walked up the path to their door, a sweet smile on his face.

Yeah. Together and in this place. This was where they belonged.

 

FIN


End file.
